


Bet Big and Take the House

by Meddalarksen, victoriousscarf



Category: Ocean's (Movies), X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Being raised by Charles and Erik gives one a skewed sense of morals, Con Artists, Explicit Language, Las Vegas, Multi, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Some other implied pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meddalarksen/pseuds/Meddalarksen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank McCoy believes in going big or going home. Which is why the instant he's out of prison after a disastrous con gone wrong, his first plan is to steal from a Las Vegas casino. Not just any one casino o course, but the three belonging to one Sebastian Shaw. His long time partner-in-crime, Alex Summers, would really just prefer they don't die.</p><p>Which is how they end up with the biggest crew they'd ever worked with, including their two mad foster fathers who have never managed to stay together, one (or two) of Shaw's ex-lovers, a circus performer and other mismatched cons.</p><p>Thank god everyone is the best in their fields.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do You Still Like Vegas?

**Author's Note:**

> Based roughly off the 2000s Oceans 11 movie.

Hank McCoy stepped out of prison in the tuxedo he had been arrested in and looked up at the sky. There were clouds above and no one waiting for him. So he tied the bowtie that had been hanging around his neck and walked forward, back into the world.

In a very short amount of time he stepped out from under the grey sky and into a casino, having downgraded his wardrobe into something more fitting for the down-on-his-luck ordinary man he wanted to pass as. Looking around, he spotted a dealer he was certain he recognized and sat at another table, flirting mildly with the dealer and watching.

The dealer excused herself to go on break, her replacement stepping up, "Bets please."  The woman before him wore her dark hair swept back to keep it out of her way and the red vest of her uniform set a striking look with her tan skin.

"Fifty," he said, voice mild. "Good to see you, Angel."

Her carefully manicured hands stilled and she looked up from the cards, "I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else.  My name's Carmen."

"Truly?" he asked. "Terribly sorry. You just look so much like another dealer I know."

She offered him a quirk of her lips, "Well, you might check a couple of other places in town.  I know the lounge at the Grand picks up around, say midnight."

"The Grand, hm?" he hummed, gathering up his chips. "Thank you for the suggestion."

"Good luck to you tonight, sir."

"Thank you," he said inclining his head. He cased the casino as an afterthought as he moved through it, passing time until he stepped into the Grand's lounge at a quarter to midnight and ordered a coffee. At five minutes past the hour, the dealer entered the lounge, crossing over to sit across from Hank, her dark hair now loose around her shoulders and her clothes changed into street wear.

"I take it you got yourself blacklisted then," Hank said, idly pushing a martini toward her.

Angel Salvadore picked up the martini, sipping at it, "You would be right."  She eyed the drink but continued drinking it, muttering something about it not holding a candle to the ones Janos made.

"That's because Janos is freaky and should never be allowed near alcohol," Hank replied smoothly. "Where's Alex?"

"You mean he didn't write you at all?"  Angel arched her eyebrows.  "Last I heard he was teaching up and coming actors in Hollywood."

"Teaching?" Hank asked with a laugh. "He sent cookies once."

"Teaching them to play cards," she smirked.  "And did you risk eating those cookies?"

"The first couple," Hank said. "Then I saved them to use on my enemies."

Angel laughed, "So, do you have a plan already, then?"

"Of course I do," Hank said. "Buy me a drink and give me your number and I'll let you in on the start of it."

She flagged down a waiter and placed the order she remembered Hank preferring before he went away, even as she scribbled her number down on a napkin, "God, it's good to have you back."

"You have no idea how good it is to be back," Hank said. "Parole or not. Say, you don't have any lingering fondness for Sebastian Shaw do you?"

"Does anyone have lingering fondness for that bastard?" Angel asked by way of an answer.

"Excellent," Hank smirked, dragging a fresh napkin toward him to start drawing diagrams on.

Angel propped her elbows on the table, watching as the sketches took shape, "Still as good as ever.  It's good to know some things don't change."

"Hush and listen," Hank said, gesturing with the sharpie he'd pulled out of his coat pocket.

x-x-x-x

Alex looked at the "winning" hand of one of the six young actors around the poker table.  Not a single thing in it, admittedly the call of "all red" had been true, but there wasn't even a pair to be seen.  He knocked back a swallow of his drink and rose, "Okay, guys.  Let's take a break.  Meet back here in twenty."  Before they could say anything in response he exited the backroom where he carried out his business.  Settling at the bar in the front of the strip joint he nursed a second drink for the entirety of the break.

Adjusting his cuffs and wishing they were a little longer—he really needed to just invest in a tailored suit again—the blond slipped into the back again, pausing down the hall when he heard an extra voice among his students.  Frowning for a moment, he cleared his expression before entering the room.  He froze as soon as he set eyes on the newest addition to the table, barely hearing a call from one of the actors asking if it was alright for the man to join them.

"Yes, is it quite alright with the teacher?" Hank asked, adjusting his glasses over his eyes which were happily laughing at Alex even though his face only had an easy smile on it.

"The more the merrier," Alex replied with a shrug, returning to his seat and shuffling the cards, having the person to his right cut the deck before he dealt.

"These lovely young people have been telling me what an amazing teacher you are," Hank said, accepting the cards dealt to him gracefully.

"I like to think I can be," Alex replied, considering his hand as the first round of betting started.  "It's all in how willing the students are to learn."

"And how fast they are on the uptake," Hank said, watching him from across the table.

Alex's lips quirked at that, "Well, yes that too."

One of the young actors glanced between them before focusing on Hank, "So what is it you do?"

"Nothing at the moment, I just got out of prison," Hank said, dropping his bet on the table. "Five hundred."

"Prison? What were you in prison for?" another one asked, reaching for her chips to meet the bet, but Alex held out a hand to stop her, his eyes on Hank.

"Slow down there and think.  That's a lot of money for a first round of betting.  My guess?  He's got a pair of fours, tops.  This, ladies and gentlemen is what we call playing the bluff.  It's up to you if you want to stay in.  There's a lot of money on the table already."

The young woman glanced at him before tossing her chips onto the pile and repeating her question to Hank.

"I stole things," Hank said, twirling the stirrer in his drink as he watched Alex across the table.

"What sort of things?" one of the younger men asked as he folded.

Alex tossed his chips into the pile and answered for Hank, "Incan matrimonial headmasks."

A player who kept showing his hand to his girlfriend paused. "Is there money in those? Did you find them at a museum."

"Gallery, actually," Hank shrugged.

"You're showing, Bailey, whether she's your girlfriend or not," Alex reprimanded the player before answering the question.  "There's a lot of money in them, if you can move them."  He dealt the requested trade cards to the table, "But you can't."

"I had a fence who was confident that he could," Hank said, shuffling his cards together like he was considering them intently.

Alex looked over his cards at Hank across the table, "If you deal in cash you don't even need a fence.  It saves a lot of problems."

"Some people just lack vision," Hank replied. "Cash only gets you so far."

"Lacking vision," the blond nodded slowly, as though considering that.  "So, most of cell block E then?"

"I was in D," Hank replied primly, dropping another couple hundred on the table.

"Which entirely absolves you of lack of vision," Alex replied as another of his students folded while a third called and raised another five hundred.

"Exactly," Hank replied, dropping another few hundred, taking his bet up to a thousand. "I have all the vision I need."

The remaining players called and raised until all had put in two thousand.  They finally reached the end of the game, showing their hands.  Hank's four-of-a-kind nines with a high ace beat the entire table and Alex paled, "Son of a bitch.  Ninety percent of the time someone goes that high that fast they're bluffing."

"I don't bluff," Hank said, standing from the table and counting through the bills he'd won before smirking. "Good night, all," he said, heading for the door.

Alex ignored his students’ angry mutters, shoving back from the table and stalking out the door.  He caught up with Hank outside the club, "You asshole."

"Me?" Hank asked, hand going to his chest. "I can't imagine what you're talking about. I'm not the one who didn't write while you were in prison."

"I sent you cookies," Alex replied.  "You just cost me my professional reputation."

"I admit the cookies were nice," Hank said. "They were great for warding off and punishing my enemies. I cost no one any reputation."

"Ten thousand dollars.  You walked out of there with at least ten grand after I told them you were bluffing."  He scowled, "You don't have any idea how their brains work do you?"

"Oh you meant your card teaching reputation," Hank said and laughed, hands in his pockets as he walked. "Like you ever enjoyed that anyway."

"It paid the bills," Alex replied, falling into step with him.  "So you'd better have an alternative for me."

"I always have something better for you," Hank said and peeled off several bills from his stack before handing them to Alex. "I'd give you half but I need to build up my stock again so you're only getting a fourth tonight."

Thumbing through the bills before pocketing them, Alex looked around, "I need something to eat.  There's an all-night deli around the corner."

"You always need something to eat," Hank said, knocking their shoulders together. "One day your metabolism is going to slow down."

"And when that day comes I will slow down my eating.  Currently I'm burning my reserves," Alex replied, glancing at Hank.  "So how does it feel to break your parole?"

Hank waved a hand off. "I checked in before I left the state."

That earned a laugh as Alex pushed the door to the deli open, "Of course you did."

Hank shrugged as he stepped through. "The parole is a joke anyway. Nothing worthwhile is left in that state."

Alex sat down in a booth, looking over the menu and setting it aside, "Alright, you've cost me my current job.  What have you got for an alternative?"

"It needs planning and a large crew," Hank said, fiddling with the salt shaker.

"Security, Hank?"  A waiter came by and Alex ordered a basic sandwich and coffee, resting his elbows on the table to fix Hank with a look.

"Lots and lots of it," he said, watching Alex.

"What's the target?"

"It will spill out eight figures each," Hank said, still turning the salt shaker over in his hands. "No matter how big the team is."

Alex sighed, "Hank, what's the target?"

"Do you still like Vegas?" Hank asked instead, finally looking up.

Alex paused, accepting the sandwich from the waiter before speaking, "You want to knock over a Vegas casino?"

Hank nodded before holding up three of his fingers. Nearly choking on the bite of food he'd taken, Alex set the sandwich down again, " _Three_?"

"You sound surprised," Hank drawled, sneaking a swallow of his coffee.

"Prison addled your brains.  You're crazier than I remember."

"Or maybe I've just had more time to plan," he said with a laugh, finally relinquishing the coffee cup and sliding it back toward Alex. "Come on, I have something to show you."

Alex finished the coffee quickly, set down money for his meal and picked up the sandwich, "Lead on, I want to see exactly how impossible this is."

"Not nearly as you think," Hank said, holding the door open on their way out.

"Show me what you've got and we'll see if that's true," Alex replied.

A short while later, Hank rolled out the plans of the vault. They stood in an old office several stories up as Hank pointed. "The vault at the Bellagio itself."

Alex leaned in close, examining the designs, "I've read a lot of these in our time and this has to be the least accessible vault I have ever seen."

"It definitely is," Hank agreed, still looking far too cheerful about the entire thing.

"You said three casinos," he said, glancing up at Hank, his expression neutral.

"The Mirage and the M. G. M. Grand both feed into this vault," Hank said. "Three casinos go into one vault. Knock this over and you knock over all three of them."

Alex straightened up, fixing Hank with a stare, "Those are all Sebastian Shaw's places."

"Yes," Hank agreed, tone mild. "Do you think he might mind?"

"You're out of your mind, Hank.  Completely out of your mind."

"We're going to need just about a dozen men," Hank mused. "Ten on the low side and thirteen to the upside."

"Running a half dozen cons. Off the cuff I think you'll need a Boesky, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, two Jethros, and a Leon Spinks."  He paused, "Not to mention the biggest Ella Fitzgerald this world has ever seen."  Alex looked back at the designs and shook his head, "You're never going to get the backing for this."

"Well, all we need is to find one of Shaw's enemies with a lot of loose cash and nothing to lose," Hank said, clearly thinking of someone already.

"You bring a nearly impossible job and expect Erik to back us?" Alex looked at him like he'd grown another head.  Crossing his arms, he leaned against the desk they had the plans spread out on.

"It's a chance to get back at Shaw," Hank pointed out. "Say, are he and Charles on or off at the moment?"

"I don't actually know.  I've been ignoring Charles' calls and haven't talked to Erik in more than a month," Alex said, running through his mental list of people they might be able to work with.

"So," Hank said, turning toward Alex as he rolled up the plan for the vault. "What do you think?"

"I think," he paused as though thinking about it, "I think that you should get yourself somewhere to stay.  Think over this plan, mull it over for a couple of weeks.  And then?  Then you never bring it up to me again.  Jesus Christ, Hank, this is insane."

"Which is why it's going to be so amazing when we pull it off," Hank said, tapping the rolled up plans against his shoulder as he leaned against the desk.

Alex raked a hand through his blond hair, shaking his head, "This house of cards will fall down and we'll be left running for our lives if we're not really, _really_ damn careful.  Why do this?"

"Why not?" Hank asked. "The mountain’s there you might as well climb it."

"I'm not sure that's an adequate answer.  It's all I'm getting though, isn't it?"

Hank scowled. "Because yesterday when I stepped out of prison I was wearing my entire wardrobe and it was five years out of date and you've been cold decking Hollywood wannabes with brains in their pants not their heads." He paused a beat and pressed on. "Because the house always wins. The house takes you, unless when that special hand comes around you bet big and you finally get to take the house."

Alex tilted his head on one side, his lips quirking upward slightly, "Have you been practicing that speech?"

The corner of Hank's mouth twitched up. "I think I rushed it, did I rush it?"

"No, no, I think it played well," Alex finally grinned.

"Good," Hank nodded. "I did mean it though. I'm sick of letting other people win in my life."

Alex considered that for a long moment before nodding, "Alright.  Then we'll, we'll get a crew.  We need to find out if Erik will back us before we go further, though."

"He'll tell us to fuck off," Hank said cheerfully. "We'll just have to convince him." He jumped back when a flashlight shined in their eyes, the guard standing there. "Jesus, Oscar, a little lower."

"Sorry, sir," the guard said. "Find what you need."

"Thanks for your help," Hank said, stepping past him with the plans still in his hands and he left a few hundred when he went. "Just need to take some work home to make copies. How're the kids?"

"Doing well," Oscar said, flashing the light at Alex again now that Hank was past. "Have a good night, sir."

Alex touched his brow, "Have a good night.  Wish the wife well."

"Think we can get to Erik's by tomorrow in that old car of yours?" Hank asked on the way to the elevator.

"My car is in perfect working order, thank you." Alex replied, "Better than even.  We'll make it and be there by the time he's having breakfast."

"Let's not approach him until lunch," Hank said, looking over as the elevator dinged open.

"Probably wise," Alex agreed, stepping into the elevator and pressing the ground floor button.

x-x-x-x

"You are out of your fucking minds," Erik said, spreading marmalade on a piece of toast as he looked across the lunch table at Hank and Alex. They sat outside in metal chairs in his garden and despite the late hour he was still wearing a plush robe that looked either like it had once belonged to Charles or at the very least had been a gift from Charles that survived the many purges made when they went off again.

Alex took a sip of his water, blinking at Erik over the table, "We can't be that far off, can we?"

"That far off?" Erik scoffed. "You're out of the ballpark. Fuck, you're out of the park and into the countryside you're so fucking off. I know more about casino security than any man alive, I fucking invented most of it. It cannot be beaten. They got everything, cameras, watchmen, locks, timers, vaults, enough armed personnel to occupy a small country or a very large capitol city."

"It's never been tried," Alex replied, cutting a glance at Hank as he picked up a piece of toast.

"Are you fucking kidding?" Erik asked. "You think you're the specialest snowflake that ever was a snowflake? It's been tried. Some have even come close. You know what the three most successful robberies in Vegas history are?"

The blond took a bite of the toast to hide a smile, it had been too long since he'd seen Erik in this sort of a state, "Not off the top of my head."

"But I'm sure you'll be happy to tell us," Hank said, stealing a piece of toast off Alex's plate.

"Guy named Pencilneck grabs a lockbox at the Sands. He got all of two steps closer to the door than any other living man. That was in the mid-sixties. Then the silver medalist took a tray full of chips out of the Flamingo in seventy-one. He smelled fresh oxygen before five security guards tackled him to the ground. He breathed out of a hose for the next three weeks of course."

He paused, taking a long drink of what looked like tea but which Hank suspected included more Vodka than your average cuppa. "Then in the eighties a guy took out the Caesar. He came, he grabbed, he got conquered. He's dead, by the way."

Erik leaned back and shrugged. "But what the fuck am I saying, you know? You're pros, you're the best there is. You'll make it out the door. Of course once you're out the front door _you're still in the middle of the fucking desert._ "

Alex nodded very slightly, "You're right."  He glanced at Hank, eyes flicking to the toast and he shrugged, "We've got to admit he's right."

"Of course he's right," Hank said, reaching around Alex for the plate with fruit on it. "We looked higher than we could hope to climb. Thank you so much for setting us straighter than straight on this."

Alex snatched some grapes off of the plate, "Too much of Icarus in us, I guess."

The corner of Hank's mouth twitched at the reference, glad that at some point Alex listened to his drunk ramblings about mythological figures. "We'll just have to keep our feet planted on the ground."

Erik waved a hand. "Glad to set you straight. I owe you still for that thing with the guy in the place and I don't forget those debts."

"Oh that was our pleasure, I liked Belize," Alex answered with a shrug before rising.  "Thanks for lunch, Erik."

"Lunch anytime," Erik said, waving a hand again. "Give Dominic your addresses, there's some remaindered furniture I'd like to send the both of you."

Hank almost asked when Erik had adopted them like Charles once had, or if the furniture had been Charles' and decided against both options. "Thanks," he said instead, heading toward Erik's pool on the way toward the gate to leave.

Alex smirked slightly at the furniture but fell into step with Hank, murmuring, "How much do you want to bet that the furniture is some Charles forgot the last time he left?"

"I'm not taking that bet," Hank said and Erik watched them for a moment.

"Hey," he called. "Just which casinos had you brain trust children decided to rob anyway?"

"The Bellagio, Mirage and the M. G. M. Grand," Hank said, turning back around.

Instantly he had all of Erik's attention, his nostrils flaring out and his gaze intense. "Those are all Sebastian Shaw's places."

"Are they?" Alex looked at Hank as though trying to recall before turning back to Erik, "They are, yeah."

"How shocking," Hank said and Erik's eyes narrowed.

"You manipulative little shits."

"We learned from the best," Hank sing-songed back.

"After all, we were hardly born with these traits, but we had amazing teachers," Alex supplied with a charming smile.

"Sit the fuck back down," Erik said, swirling an umbrella in a cocktail. "Not only have you gotta be nuts, but you're going to need a crew as crazy as you are. Who do you have in mind?"

Alex rejoined him at the table, pouring himself another glass of water and tipping back in his chair, "Well, Hank says he's already talked to Angel to begin with."

"Angel?" Erik said, arching a brow.

"She's informed her boss she's getting a bad case of bronchitis and wants to transfer to warmer climates," Hank smirked. "She's gonna be our in in one of the actual casinos."

"Hank is going to check with Scott and Logan.  They're a bit...bored based on what I've been hearing," Alex supplied.  "They're always good as distractions and drivers."

"The Mormon twins?" Hank asked. "Wait, I'm checking on them?" he added as Erik laughed. "How the fuck are they bored anyway?"

"I think Scott just built an RC capable of outpacing your average monster truck," Alex answered.  "And you're checking on them because I know who I'm going to have to deal with."

The corners of Hank's mouth twitched up and Erik shook his head. "Well," Erik said, swirling his umbrella around again. "It's a start."

"We'll need tech, munitions, a grease man," Alex paused, tapping the table top for a moment.

"And Charles," Hank added, watching Erik.

"He claims he's out of the business, again," Alex took a drink of water, trying not to look like he was hiding behind it as he watched Erik for a reaction.

"He always claims that," Hank said and Erik slowly set his glass down.

"Are you sure you'd need him?" he asked, tone shockingly mild and Hank nodded. Erik considered before he nodded. "Alright."

"Can you work with him?" Alex spoke calmly, watching Erik

"I can always work with him," Erik said, smile turning pointier.

Alex's eyebrows rose slightly at that, but he didn't question further, "Well, we have a few more stops to make today, I think."

"Be on your way then," Erik said with a wave of his hand. Nodding again, Hank rose.

"Do we still get the furniture?" he asked.

"Survive this job and we'll talk," Erik said, still smiling like a shark.

"Guess that gives us our answer about Charles," Alex muttered under his breath as they left.

"So are we telling Charles Erik is our backer before or after he agrees?" Hank asked.

"After.  As in, when we pick him up from the airport and have him in the car sort of after," Alex replied as they got in his car.

"Sounds good to me," Hank agreed, sliding in the passenger seat. "So who are we fetching first?"

"Emma's working with the FBI mob squad.  She's about three hours' drive from here last I heard."

"Has she killed any of them yet?" Hank asked, sliding on a preposterous pair of sunglasses to cope with Alex's convertible and leaning his arm on the windowsill.

"She seems to still be working with them, so apparently not," Alex answered with a grin, pulling the car onto the interstate.

"Well we'll just have to go save her before she gets tempted like," Hank laughed, cranking the seat back slightly.

"Crank that thing back too much further and you'll break it," Alex warned.

"I'd never dream of breaking your car."

"Oh yes you would.  I'm pretty sure you've attempted it once or twice, too," came the reply with an accompanying grin.

"Maybe once," Hank agreed, tone idle.

"Just don't try to break this one quite yet, I happen to like it and I've put a hell of a lot of time and effort into it."

"If I break it somehow that's what you get for fixing old cars and then using them," Hank said, tilting his head back to feel more of the sun on his face and the wind in his hair.

"They run better and longer than most of the new ones.  These things are built to last and with a few minor modifications are as close to perfect as you'll find."

Hank snorted. "As close to perfect indeed."

Alex smirked, "You doubt me?"

"Only a lot," Hank agreed, leaning forward to turn the radio on.

"Choose something decent for once, yeah?" Alex said, barely glancing at the radio dial.

"You have such horrid tastes," Hank said, clicking his tongue but settling on a station somewhere between what they usually listened to.

"I happen to like my tastes.  Not like yours are all that much better."

"At least they're classical," Hank said.

Alex rolled his eyes, "Yes, very classical.  Classical enough to put a person to sleep."

"Just be glad I didn't turn it to a pop station," Hank said, leaning back into his sunbathing position again.

"You'd have to put up with Johnny Cash after the first song if you did that, and you know it." Alex replied, glancing at him and grinning, "You look like a content, overgrown cat."

"Keep your eyes off me and on the road," Hank said without opening his eyes. "Besides, I missed the sun. And the wind. And fresh air in general. Perhaps there is some good in this piece of tin you call a car after all."

"All it needs is a new paint job to look all respectable like," Alex defended his car.  "But that would also make it more noticeable."

Hank laughed. "Your car could never be respectable."

x-x-x-x

Tapping her silver fingernails against the counter, Emma Frost gave the FBI agent on her right a dark look, reaching a hand out. " _Don't_ touch that."

"Calm down, princess," the agent said, shaking his head.

"I'm not a princess," she said, voice frosty. "But that is a very delicate piece of equipment and I will not have you breaking it."

When he laughed at her again she barely managed not to snarl at him. Fifteen minutes later she stepped out of the FBI van, shaking her blond hair out and barely retaining enough dignity to not kick it on her way out. She turned around, walking up the path and stilled to see Hank and Alex sitting outside at a cafe.

Alex grinned and raised a hand to wave her over, "Imagine seeing you here."

"I can't," she said, walking over. "Imagine that it is but a coincidence."

"Sit down, order something.  You look like you've had a stressful day," he offered her a charming smile.

Emma huffed. "It's not been a long day," she said but sat. "What brings you two here."

"We're putting together a crew," Hank said, turning his coffee cup around on the table.

Alex took a drink of his own coffee, "We're short a tech.  And you're the best there is."

"I am also working," she said.

Alex looked at her over the edge of his cup, "It's against Shaw.  And although you may want to kill part of the crew we all know not to touch your stuff."

For a moment she held herself perfectly still before inclining her head. "When do we leave?"

"We've got to gather the rest of the crew, but we're all meeting at Erik's at the end of the week."

"Erik's backing this then?" she asked, gesturing the waiter for a coffee. "I suppose all you have to do is dangle Shaw in front of him and he's a horse lead to the water."

"That's just about what we did, yeah," Alex replied with a grin.  "Now I just have to talk Charles into joining us without letting him know who our backer is."

"I'd rather not be in the same state," she said, fluffing the ends of her blond hair. "But I assume he'll find out when they walk into the same room."

"That's my plan, yes.  I don't think I can possibly get him here otherwise."

Emma hummed and Hank tried not to laugh too hard into his cup as he took another sip. "So I suppose we'll all be in the same state. Well, I hope that means there'll be a buffer."

Alex couldn't help but smile at that, "Buffer... You say that like it'll help."

"Oh I expect to be standing at ground zero," Emma shrugged. "But at least it will be more interesting."

"And you won't be stuck in a surveillance van with feds," Alex offered, finishing his coffee.

"Exactly," she said. "Their greasy hands need to stay away from my equipment."

He chuckled, "They're feds.  That's not going to happen and you know it."

"Which is why I'll remove it from their possession," she said.

"You never did ask us what the job was," Hank said, looking over at her and she shrugged.

"You're going after Shaw. It's fairly obvious you're going after his casinos."

"Yet you haven't told us we're crazy for thinking of it," Alex raised his eyebrows, stealing Hank's coffee for a drink before he set it down again.

Hank didn't even twitch, just lifting his cup back up again. "Well, it's assumed you're mad," she said. "Besides, if he catches us it's you he'll kill, not the rest of us."

"In theory," Alex corrected.

"It's Shaw," she said. "He likes to make examples but leaves the poor peons alone."

"Well, then we'd better make sure he doesn't catch us, hadn't we?" he glanced at Hank.

"I'd rather not die," Hank agreed.

"How many in the crew?" Emma asked. "It would have to be numerous cons going at the same time."

"We're looking at ten," Hank said. "At least ten, anyway."

"We've got ten at this point," Alex agreed.  "Though I think eleven is probably what we'll need."

"Who's the eleventh?" Hank asked, looking over.

"Not sure yet.  But we're going to need one.  I’ll start searching my contacts.  We need a pickpocket.  I'm sure we need one."

"If you want one, we'll get one," Hank agreed and Emma looked between them.

Alex caught the look and met her gaze, "What?"

"Nothing," she said primly.

"Right, sure," Alex said, shaking his head. "Remember, end of the week at Erik's."

"I'll be there," she said and pushed herself to her feet. "In the meantime, I suppose I should catch a few more criminals before I return to being one.

"Just don't kill any of the feds, that could cause problems," came his blithe reply.

"I'll try to restrain my murderous impulses until we get into the desert," Emma drawled. "I'll see you at the end of the week. Try to sort yourselves out by then."

As she walked away, Hank looked back at Alex. "What do you think she meant by that?"

"Oh who knows.  It's Emma," Alex shook his head.  "Come on, we have a few more people to recruit in the area."

"Who next?" Hank asked.

"I have a line on a grease man.  But the show doesn't start for a couple of hours," Alex answered.

"A show?" Hank asked, ordering a second cup of coffee.

"A circus, actually."

Hank's eyebrow twitched up at that. "A circus show?"

Alex offered him a long look, "Would you trust me?  Everyone I ask says that if you need a grease man you need this guy."

"He better be one fuck of an impressive circus performer," Hank said with a shrug.

"I guess we'll see," came the easy response as Alex leaned back in his chair.


	2. I Still Might Have Some Sanity Left

Sitting under the big top, and stealing popcorn from Alex, Hank watched the acrobats. "Why is he the list anyway? After all, he's an acrobat, we need a grease man."

"He's a good one," Alex's tone was skeptical though.  His gaze was fixed on the high-wire acrobat. 

The performance was good but there wasn't anything outstanding.  And then the performer paused, mid-step, about six feet from one platform, balanced precariously and rolled himself into a ball on the wire.  Curling his feet around the wire he rolled off the tightrope, using his momentum to latch onto the pole.  Continuing with his movement he twisted around the pole and caught the ladder down to the ground, using it to brace himself slightly as he slid down to the ground, flipping away and landing feet from the pole to offer an elaborate bow.

"Alright," Hank said, almost dropping the popcorn he was holding. "I say we have a grease man. How do we contact him?"

"We have an appointment to talk to him after the closing act tonight," Alex replied with a smirk.  "It's all in who you ask."

"Well I'm glad somebody knows," Hank said, going back to snatching popcorn. Alex finally shifted the popcorn bag away so he could save the rest for himself as they watched the rest of the show, except Hank's arms were longer and he never quite managed it.

At the end of the show, Hank rose, rolling his shoulders and looking down at Alex. "So where are we meeting this lad?"

"The circus owner said we could meet him at the trailer he shares."  Alex rose, stretching out the kinks before heading for the nearest exit.  "It's just this way."

Hank followed behind him, hands in his pockets as he looked around. "There are days I really like that you know the right people."

"Well, it helps that I haven't been out of the loop for five years," Alex responded as they reached the right trailer and he knocked on the door. 

There was a crash and a muffled curse in German before the door opened to reveal the dark-haired acrobat from the show.  He blinked at them, half-dressed and looking like he'd been in the process of cleaning up and changing, " _Ja_?"

"Hey, I'm Alex, this is Hank.  Margali said she'd told you that we wanted to talk to you?"

Blinking again he pulled the door open further, stepping back, "She did, yes.  Come in, come in."  He picked up a discarded t-shirt and pulled it over his head as he smoothly stepped around a pile of books, "Sit down where you find an empty place."

"I don't mind standing," Hank said. "If that's no offense to you."

He shook his head quickly, "No, no Stefan and I have not exactly made it comfortable for guests.  Can I get anything for you?"

"No, thanks though," Alex answered.

Brushing his hair back from his forehead he finally held out a hand to them, "Kurt Wagner.  All Margali said was that you had a business offer for me?"

"We need a grease man," Hank said. "Getting together a team of eleven to knock over a couple casinos."

Kurt stared at him for a moment before tipping back his head and laughing, "You are joking, yes?"

"Not at all," Hank said, rocking from the balls of his feet to the heels and back again.

"Then you are mad."  He looked from Hank to Alex and back, "You wish to rob casinos and you need me for this?  Why would I do that?  I have a comfortable life here with the circus."

"Because circuses aren't doing so very well these days, not traveling ones at least," Alex said, holding up a hand when he saw that Kurt was going to protest.  "Wait, hear me out.  This isn't a permanent thing, this job we're doing.  We'll be done before this circus even leaves the western US.  But, if we pull this off the payoff would be enough to help fund the circus and feed the people and animals in it for a good while.  Eight figures.  That's more’n ten million.  And that would be just your cut."

The performer leaned back against the small counter in the trailer's kitchenette, "And this would be temporary?"

"Unless you really like it," Hank said, mouth twitching. "That's how this works. We pull jobs. And either you can retire when you're happy or you keep pulling jobs."

Biting his lip, he crossed his arms and considered them for a long moment, "Why come to me?"

"Because you're the best at what you do and we need the best on this," Alex answered frankly.

Casting his gaze around the trailer again, Kurt finally nodded, "When do we start?"

"We're having a meeting end of the week," Hank said, handing him one of Erik's business cards. "It's a chance to meet new people."

Kurt accepted the card, looking it over and offering a crooked grin, "Which for me will be anyone there.  I will see you then."

"Exactly," Hank said and offered Kurt a smile and a handshake. "See you at the end of the week."

Shaking Hank's hand and then Alex's, Kurt saw them to the door with another grin, "Until we meet again."

"So who's next?" Hank asked, stepping out into the night air and stretching his arms up to the sky.

"Munitions," Alex replied, lacing his hands behind his head and tipping his head back to look up.

"Who's still the best there? Darwin?" Hank asked, carefully not looking over at Alex as they walked back to his convertible.

Alex nodded, "There might be a little bit of an issue with availability.  He's working with complete morons on his latest job."

"I thought he'd sworn off doing that," Hank said.

"I don't think he realizes what morons they are," the blond shrugged as they got into the car and he started it up.

"Then I'm surprised you didn't warn him off it," Hank said.

Alex glanced at him before turning his attention back to the road, "It's not my business what jobs he takes."

"It—" Hank frowned at him. "It's not?"

"It wasn't my business when we were together, so it sure isn't now," Alex answered with a shrug.

Hank froze, sure an expression he did not want seen had passed over his face before he schooled his features. "You're not together?" he asked.

"Haven't been for almost three years.  We...weren't working very well in that state."

"In that state?" Hank asked, repeating it as a question.

"Dating.  We're fine when we work together, or when we're friends, but he's too," Alex paused, taking a hand off the steering wheel to wave it in a circle as he searched for the right word, "relaxed."

"Relaxed," Hank said. "I seem to recall a time you said you wanted someone who was relaxed."

"Yeah, well, he _never_ loses his temper," came the response, the blond shaking his head.

Hank blinked over at him. "What? He's lost his temper loads of times."

Alex looked frustrated by that response, "Over jobs.  I don't fuck up jobs I'm on."

"Usually," Hank agreed. "We are the best at what we do for a reason after all." He paused, looking out at the trees they rolled by. "So you broke up with him because he didn't get angry at you?"

"Something like that.  He never lost his temper, didn't matter what I did."

"That's really fucked up, Alex," Hank said, something like laughter at the back of his voice.

Alex snorted, "You think so?  Do you remember who raised us?"

"Yeah," Hank said. "But it's a whole different level to break up with someone for not getting angry at you."

"He never got angry or upset outside of the job.  The only passion he _had_ was for work," the blond explained.

"And not for you," Hank said. "That still doesn't make it less fucked up."

Alex shrugged, unconcerned, "If that's how you see it."

"It's almost kinky," Hank added, unsure why he wasn't letting this go. "I mean, to want someone to get angry at you."

Alex frowned, "I want someone to show they _care_.  I knew Darwin cared, but it...there wasn't really a lot of _proof_."

Hank did not look over at him, focusing on the road side. "Where are we staying tonight?" he asked. "Are we pushing on to the next person or stopping?"

"Darwin's job is another day's drive almost so I figured we get a hotel when we see one that's more than a hole-in-the-wall," Alex answered, keeping his tone even and his eyes on the road.

Laughing, Hank started paying attention to freeway signs as they passed. "So we're going to drive through the night then?"

"Only if you're offering to drive at some point too," Alex said, shaking his head.  "I've got maybe another hour of driving left in me."

"I'll try to keep my eyes peeled," Hank said, hunching down in the seat. "There was a time you swore to never let me drive your car."

"I'd like to stick to that, so we'd better find a place soon," came the reply.

Hank's laugh had a harsh edge and several minutes later he pointed to the next exit. "Generic looking hotels, but they aren't hole-in-the-walls."

Alex pulled the car off at the next exit, heading for the nearest hotel.  They pulled into the parking lot of the Day's Inn a few minutes later and he put the car top up, stretching slightly, "It's not much but it should do for tonight."

"If they have two beds, it will be fine," Hank said, unfolding his frame from Alex's car and stretching.

"Most rooms have two beds at these places, but we'll make sure the desk clerk knows we're not sleeping together." Getting the overnight bag he always kept in his trunk, Alex headed for the door of the hotel.

Hank watched him go before he followed, fishing out his own small bag which currently held all the clothes he owned. He would get new suits once the job started. By the time Hank got inside, Alex had the room keys and handed one of the cards to Hank starting toward the stairs up to their room without another word.

"Did I say something?" Hank asked, following him up to the second floor.

"No," he answered, reaching the room and trying to get his key to work, swearing when he realized he'd inserted it upside-down the first time.

Hank plucked it away from him. "I swear, anything after the sixties and you don't know what to do with technology."

"Oh fuck off," Alex muttered.  "I have no problem with key cards, I'm just tired."

Hank hummed, pushing the door open and dropping his bag on the bed nearest the door. "Right, long day and all that."

Alex flopped down on the other bed, staring at the ceiling, "That's one way of putting it, for sure."

"Are you worried about seeing Darwin?" Hank asked, shuffling through his bag.

"What?"  He looked up before letting his head fall back again, "No we're all good.  We parted on good terms and everything.  We've even worked together since then."

"Something is wrong though," Hank said. "Don't forget how long I've known you, Alex."

"We're gathering a crew to knock over not one but three casinos and they all belong to Sebastian Shaw," Alex said, offering it up, falsely, as his excuse.

Hank shot him a long look before straightening. "Fine, don't tell me," he said and wondered back to the shower. Alex let his eyes close, listening as the water turned on and trying not to think about the other man under the shower.  His eyes snapped open and he sat up, rifling through his bag in the hope of finding something that would actually distract him.

A short while later the water turned off again and Hank came out in a towel. "Still not telling?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed with a hairbrush.

Alex looked in his direction and flushed before shoving himself to his feet, "Nothing to tell.  Though if I'm fucked up where does you marrying Raven fall on the scale?"  With those words he entered the bathroom, remembering at the last moment not to slam the door.

"At least I never wanted her to get angry at me," Hank called after him. "And we're divorced."

"She got angry at you whether you wanted her to or not," Alex replied through the door. "That's not the problem here."  He turned on the shower to drown out anything else Hank might say. Emerging twenty minutes later, with one towel slung low around his hips and ruffling his hair with a second one, Alex picked up where he'd left off, "All I'm saying is that marrying Raven was a step short of incest."

Hank did not even look up from the book he was reading. "If you say so. I doubt that you have ever considered me a brother, though, in which case Raven could hardly be my sister."

"You and I have never been you and Raven," Alex responded, tossing the towel he'd been using on his hair into a corner before digging through his bag.

"It is still a false equivalency," Hank said. "You are not my brother, and Raven was not my sister. So we got married. It clearly did not last."

"I still don't understand why the two of you tried in the first place," Alex said, feeling his temper spike for reasons he was refusing to contemplate.

"Because we were young," he shrugged. "There weren't many other girls that were interesting."

"Which is entirely a reason to get married," Alex muttered, but shook his head.

"Actually, it wasn't," he shrugged, turning the next page in the book, still without looking up. "Ergo you can see the failed status of said marriage."

Alex finally found what he was looking for and disappeared to change briefly, emerging again wearing boxers and haphazardly tossing the towel to join the other one, "She's a force of nature, that one."

"Why are you asking about this now?" Hank asked, turning another page. One of his fingers tapped against the cover.

"Because we're working together again and I figured it was bad taste to ask about it when you were married to her."

Hank's eyebrow twitched but he still refused to look up. "It is still in bad taste now."

"Yeah, but I won't have Raven coming after me for it now," Alex answered, moving his bag and sitting down on his bed.

"I'm certain I could call her and tell her you considered our marriage incestuous and she would fly across the country just to punch you in the face," Hank said, a tiny smile on his face.

Alex rolled his eyes, "Yes, but that would put a crimp in the whole plan we've got going for the moment.  It's easier to identify a guy with a black eye in a crowd."

"True," he agreed after a beat. "I suppose I will just have to wait then. I've gotten very good at that."

"You were always too good at it," Alex murmured, pulling the blankets back and sliding between them.

Hank finally looked over. "And then waiting for five years made me even better at it."

The blond shrugged, sliding down further and pulling the blankets up over his bare shoulder, "That would make anyone better at it.  What're you reading?"

"Nothing good or interesting," Hank said, throwing the paperback toward where he'd dropped his bag against the wall, underneath the generic hotel mirror. "Good night, Alex."

Alex watched the book, considering how it landed before nodding, "Yeah, good night, Hank."

x-x-x-x

Pushing himself to his feet as the vault blew open, Darwin considered his handiwork before stepping inside, expecting that the men he was working with had done their job properly and they could get the loot and be out long before anyone noticed the exploded out door.

Except that when he stepped inside, an alarm started blaring. Turning in his heel he pointed his finger at the cowering cons. "You have _one_ job to do," he said and threw his hands up. By the time they walked outside the bank was already surrounded by cops and SWAT teams as he'd fully expected. One of the younger members had made a break for the back door and Darwin shook his head to see him dragged around roughly by cops.

The rest of the gang was handcuffed quickly, and Darwin found himself being questioned by a demolitions expert. "And you're certain that's all you used for this event?"

"Are you accusing me of booby-trapping?" Darwin asked and shook his head, eyes looking heavenward at the people he had to deal with.

"Booby traps aren't his style," a voice came from the left.  Alex stood there, looking every inch a federal agent with his cold stare and simple suit.  He glanced past the cop to Darwin, "Isn't that right?"

Darwin didn't bat an eye to see Alex there. "That's entirely correct," he agreed, moving his arms as if he would fold them over his chest before the handcuffs stopped him and he scowled.

The cop looked skeptical, but Alex flashed a badge quickly, "Somersile, A.T.F.  Let me take a wild guess.  He used a simple G4 mainliner, double-coil, backwound, quick fuse with a drag under 20 feet."  When all he got was a dumbfounded look, he nodded, "That's him.  Tell me, have you checked him for booby traps on his person?  I mean really, truly checked him."

When the cop shook his head slowly, uncertainly, Alex stepped forward and yanked Darwin around, shoving him against the cop car and quickly running his hands over the other's legs and waist, his fingers heading up Darwin's torso.  He glanced at the cop, "Would you go find Gregs and tell him I need him over here."  As the officer went to do so, Alex leaned in a bit closer, murmuring, "How much time do you need to put together something with what I just slipped you?"

"Done," Darwin said. "Thirty seconds enough time?"

"Say when that thirty seconds starts, and yeah it is."

"Now," Darwin said, something snapping behind him. They moved at a fast pace away from the car. "So I heard Hank got out."

"He's waiting around the corner with my car," Alex said by way of answer.

"It's such a relief to be working with professionals again," Darwin said, giving Alex a sideways look.

Alex snorted, "That's one way of putting us I suppose.  Charles and Erik'll be in on it too."

"Oh, a right old family reunion then," Darwin said and before he could decide on anything else to say he checked his watch. "Ten seconds. We should run."

They bolted, Alex calling out warning to the other people in the area about a bomb in the squad car, barely getting the words out before the explosion went off.  As everyone around them hit the deck, he and Darwin moved quickly around the corner and down the street to where the car was waiting, Alex laughing the whole way.

"You're not supposed to laugh and give it away," Darwin was saying as they came to a stop in front of Hank, who was leaning against the car with his ankles crossed. "McCoy."

"Darwin," Hank said. "Good to see you again."

"I see you've been working your hardest at getting a tan back," Darwin said, hopping into the back seat of Alex's car.

"It's one of the benefits of a convertible," Hank agreed, sliding into his usual seat.

Alex got behind the wheel, pulling away from the curb with a grin, "So, Darwin, what do you say to accomplishing the impossible?"

"How impossible?" Darwin asked, spreading his arms along the backseat.

"Three Vegas casinos.  All owned by Sebastian Shaw," Alex answered, still grinning from the adrenaline rush after the car explosion.

"Casinos?" Darwin asked. "Damn big crew I take it?"

"Eleven if Tom Cassidy turns up with a name for us.  He's supposed to call me back soon."

"He retire then?" Hank asked, looking over and Darwin laughed from the back seat.

"He's been working on a long con for years now.  It would ruin the whole thing for him to help us," Alex said.

"That takes dedication," Hank said, shaking his head slightly. "Good for him." Alex's phone rang and he handed it off to Hank, rather than deal with it while getting on the interstate and heading toward Salt Lake City. "Hello?" Hank said, shooting Alex a look for being passed the phone.

"This is Alex's phone...so I'm assuming you're Hank.  It's Tom, I have a possible pick for you boys."

"Excellent," Hank said. "Glad to hear from you Tom, I hope your job goes well. Who's the pick?"

"Kid named Sean.  Mostly works the trains during rush hours around Grand Central Station.  He's got the best hands I've ever seen with the smoothest lift."

"I'll take a look for him," Hank said. "Thanks."

"You're welcome.  Tell Alex this makes us even."

"I'll let him know," Hank said, clicking the phone shut. "He has a lead in New York. I figure I can check that out while you talk to Charles."

Alex nodded, "That sounds like it'll be the best plan.  We'll meet up afterwards."

"Now that you've rescued me from the stupid ass crew and police," Darwin said. "I figure we'll be meeting up at Erik's?"

"Meeting there Saturday night," Alex agreed.

"Just drop me off at the airport then," Darwin said, leaning his head back into the wind.

x-x-x-x

Two days later, Alex slid into the box seats behind the man already there.  The current occupant’s dark brown hair was streaked with grey but his bright blue eyes were sharp as he watched the race going on around the track.  He didn’t look away, his betting tickets resting on the table to his left, “I’m sure I taught you better manners than to enter a private box uninvited.”

The blond chuckled, nibbling on the roasted peanuts he was carrying, “You only taught me enough manners to keep me from getting nabbed in the middle of a job.”

Charles finally offered him a brief glance and a wave toward the chair next to him.  He picked up his drink and took a sip, “I told you three months ago that I am out of the business.  I’ve retired.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who told me that guys like us don’t retire.  We get old, we get sloppy, we get caught, but once you’re a con you’re a con for life,” Alex leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankles and resting his feet on the wall of the box.

“You didn’t even have the decency to bring Hank with you.  I know he’s out and has been for days, yet I still haven’t heard from him.  Ungrateful, the both of you,” Charles said, his lips quirking upward ever so slightly behind his glass.

Alex eyed him, ignoring the comments about Hank, “Are you sure you should be having strong liquor this early in the day?”

“What are you, my doctor? The salt on those peanuts are going to do you more harm than this scotch will do me at this point.”

“I’ll remind you that you said that when your liver fails.”

Charles frowned, turning most of his attention back to the race where the hound he’d bet on was two lengths behind all the others, “Are you going to treat me like an adult or are you going to sit there and bitch about my drinking habits, Alex?”

“Maybe I just wanted to come bitch about things.”

“So you travelled across the country.  You could have done that over the phone—if you ever answered my calls,” Charles reminded.

“It’s big.  It’s also insane.  Hank’s got a bee in his bonnet, but if we pull it off it’ll pay out multi-millions for us all,” Alex finished off his peanuts and started folding the bag into complex shapes.

“What’s the crew look like so far?”

“Emma’s on tech, Scott and Logan are drivers, Darwin as munitions, Angel’s our plant in the target, and we’ve got a new kid, Kurt Wagner, for our grease man.”

“That’s a rather large crew.  Do you need me for backing?”

“No, we need you for the fact that no one plays roles quite so well as you, Charles.”

The older brunet turned to look at him, knowing the outcome of the race.  His blue eyes were sharp, “Who’s your backer?” Alex paused a moment too long and he shook his head, “You went to Erik.  Of course you went to Erik.  And he agreed to back you?”

Alex paused, tugging his hair, “Well it was less agreed to back us and more agreed to help us beat Shaw.”

Charles’ expression shuttered at that, though there was some hint of amusement in his eyes, “Let me get this straight.  You went to Erik because you want to knock over Sebastian Shaw’s casinos.  I can’t see him being pleased with you.”

“I think there was more cursing than usual,” Alex shrugged, dismissing it.

That finally earned a dry laugh, “We taught you well.”  He rose, “I assume you have my plane ticket?”

“You’re in then?”

“I’ll hear you all out,” Charles agreed as Alex handed over the ticket.  “Though a crew of ten to knock over Shaw’s casinos?  It’ll be close at best.”

“Hank’s supposed to be following up a lead on a good set of hands in the city.”

“Eleven then.”  He paused, “I’m in, if only to be sure you don’t cock it up.”

Alex offered him a grin, “Good.  Your ticket’s for tomorrow morning out of JFK, we’re meeting at Erik’s tomorrow night.”

Charles looked at the time on the ticket and offered Alex a long-suffering look, “You are a cruel young man, Alexander.”

“Oh come on, Charles.  Nine o’clock isn’t a bad flight time.  It’s first class too.”

“At that hour it sure as hell better be,” Charles smiled as they left the box and the track.

x-x-x-x

Sitting on the train, Hank smirked as he watched a young redhead slowly pick the pocket of a stockbroker in a Brooks Brothers’ suit. It was cunningly done, using the motion of the train to help him and Hank was glad a newspaper was covering most of his face.

When the job was finished, the thief exited the train and Hank followed on his heels, casually picking the wallet off him and leaving a card in its place.

Sean left the station, and reached into his pocket to check the wallet, frowning when he found the card.  It was plain white with Hank's name on one side and a scribbled address of a nearby bar.  He sighed and headed in that direction, entering the bar a few minutes later.

"Hi, Sean," Hank said, waving him over, two drinks already on the bar in front of him. "Sit down. You are over twenty-one, aren't you?"

"As of ten months ago," Sean answered, sitting down next to him.  "Who're you?"

"Good," Hank said, pushing the dark beer toward him. "Hank McCoy. Says so on the card doesn't it?"

"Doesn't actually tell me who you are, though, does it?"  He picked up the drink and took a swallow.

"Friend of Tom Cassidy's, then," Hank said. "He told me about you, said you were a great set of hands. So why were you working wallets on the subway?"

"That wasn't work, that was practice," Sean answered.

"Good," Hank said, putting a plane ticket on the counter but keeping his hand over it. "Because we're putting together a crew for a job. It's been declared insane by everyone we've talked to, but no one's turned us down so far."

He looked at the ticket but didn't move toward it, "What's the job?"

"We're knocking over casinos," Hank said. "You in or out?"

"You're pretty trusting."

"You came highly recommended," Hank shrugged. "I trust Cassidy's word. He says you're good you must be good."

"Yeah, well, he taught me, so I'd figure my old man'd be pretty confident in what I can do," Sean replied, taking another drink of his beer.

Hank blinked once. "He did not deem it important to mention that," he said.

"Yeah well he prefers I not trade on his name, y'know?"

"If we do this job you won't need to," Hank said. "Millions of dollars each."

"And if I say no?"  Sean asked, testing the waters and already hearing his father's voice if he did choose to say no.

"Well, then you can go your own way and keep practicing on subways," Hank shrugged. "But no one's ever knocked over a casino before. Don't you want to make history?"

Sean looked down at the ticket on the bar and his mouth twisted, "History-making could be interesting."

"Could be deadly," Hank added. "It's up to you. We're meeting Saturday in California."

Sean picked up the ticket, "I'm in."

"Good," Hank said. "We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other during the job. I'll see you in California."

"See you then," Sean nodded, finishing off the beer and rising, picking the wallet out of Hank's pocket again to pay for it. Hank smirked, leaning back as he watched him go.

Alex arrived at the bar thirty minutes later, "Charles is put out that I didn't bring you along."

"I can't imagine why," Hank said. "I should have gone."

"Probably, yes.  He's agreed, though.  Regardless of having to work with Erik."

"I don't know, I think Erik was implying it was time to go on again," Hank said. "And we all know Charles will never retire. I wonder why he tried."

"Because he likes to delude himself that he's capable of it.  I'd say he's probably ready to be 'on again' as well." Alex paused, "He seemed lonely and bored."

"Then he's certainly ready to be on again then," Hank laughed. "I really should have gone to see him, shouldn't I have?"

Alex nodded, "You really should have.  I haven't been taking his calls much, either, so he's more than slightly...put out with us both."

"At least I called him before I got out," Hank said and finished the beer in front of him. "Was he already drinking?"

"Scotch," Alex sighed.  "And lecturing me about eating salted peanuts when I commented on it."

"Fuck," Hank said, dropping several more bills on the counter before rising. "The flight's not ‘til tomorrow either is it?"

"Ours or his?  We're leaving at eight-thirty I think, his flight leaves at nine."

"That was mean of you," Hank said but laughed nonetheless.

"It was cheaper to get him in first class then than the later flights," Alex justified.  "Are you going to go see him?"

"He was drinking scotch at this hour?" Hank asked. "Yeah, I'm going to see him. At least come in the car."

Alex sighed slightly, heading for the door, "I was really hoping not to go back to the mansion for a long while."

"We've been avoiding it for the last ten years," Hank pointed out. "I suppose it's time, isn't it?"

The blond nodded very slightly as they reached the car, "It isn't really fair to leave him rattling around in there by himself."

"It seemed like a good idea when we were twenty," Hank said, sliding into the passenger seat.

"We were in kind of a state at that point," Alex murmured, starting the car.

"Oh god oh god get me out of this house while I still might have some sanity left in my head?" Hank said. "That state?"

"That would be the one," he agreed.

"I would like to think we've grown since then," Hank said. When they arrived at the mansion and he got out of the car, he shook his head. "Okay, I don't feel like I've grown since then. We should probably just turn around and go."

Alex stepped out of the car, locking it and pocketing the keys, "We're here, and he was drinking _scotch_ , Hank."

"I'm just not sure I'm ready," Hank said and shook his head before stepping up to the door. "Think he knows we're here yet?"

The door opening was the answer to that question, Charles' blue eyes lighting up, "Hank, how good to see you."

"Charles," Hank said, shoulders sagging slightly. "It's been a while. I heard you were put out to miss me, though. I was chasing down a pickpocket."

"Alex did explain that," he stepped back, smiling, "Come in."  Glancing past Hank he met Alex's eyes, "Both of you."

"How have you been?" Hank asked him, stepping into the foyer and craning his neck back. "I'm glad to see you replaced that table we broke."

"You broke it more than ten years ago, Hank, of course I replaced it," Charles answered.  "I've been, I've been well."

"You could try that again with more conviction if you want," Hank said, shifting from foot to foot.

Charles offered him a smile, "I'm doing well enough.  Can I get you two anything?  I was in the middle of packing."

"No," Hank said. "I hope the tea hasn't moved very far. If you're packing I do not mean to interrupt that."

"Oh I can pack later," Charles waved a dismissive hand.  "The tea is in the same cupboard it always was.  Alex, do you want anything?"

"No, thanks, Charles."

"I'll go make the tea then," Hank said, turning on his heel and heading down the hallway toward the kitchen. He had once spent much of his time in the kitchen, trying out recipes and improving his cooking skills and he stopped in the doorway, looking around the familiar and yet different room.

Alex looked at Charles for a long moment before following Hank.  Charles paused, resting a hand on the wall as he listened to the sound of other people in the mansion for the first time in months.  Pulling himself together, he entered the kitchen, leaning against one of the counters.

"I became a good cook in this kitchen," Hank said, puttering from one cabinet to the other. "That is quite the odd thought."

"A _very_ good cook," Charles supplied watching him.  "It's good to see you out again, Hank.  It was also good to hear from you when you called."  His gaze darted to Alex who studiously avoided it.

"Thank you," Hank said. "Did you know Alex sent me cookies?"

That earned a smile from their former guardian, "And did you manage to poison your cellblock with them?"

"I made a very strong effort," Hank said. "I doled them out to my enemies. I was much feared."

Charles laughed and Alex shook his head, "Alright, so I should have bought them instead of baked them, but I thought it would be a nice gesture."

"It was a nice gesture," Hank agreed, the kettle on the stove and a teapot at the ready. "I was able to consolidate my power in the cellblock with my secret weapon. Store bought cookies would not have been nearly so effective."

Alex grinned at that, "Well, as long as it helped consolidate your power."

"It did," Hank said, shaking his head and looking back at Charles. "I didn't mean to interrupt your packing."

Charles shook his head, smiling still, "I'm glad you did.  I've missed seeing you, and yours was the first phone call I've had in months.  So please, interrupt as you please."

"How have you been?" Hank said, shuffling from foot to foot.

"Bored, retirement suits me ill.  There's far too little to occupy my mind," He paused, considering the plan Alex had laid out.  "How long have you been planning this heist?"

"Six months," Hank said. "We will certainly not speak of the things I planned before that. I'm surprised you even bothered to try to retire."

Charles laughed, "I did it in a fit of pique."

"As you usually do," Alex replied.  "Rather than work with Erik after you two have separated yet again."

Lips quirking upward, Charles inclined his head, "You know our pattern too well."

"We've been watching it for long enough," Hank replied. "You'll retire when you die, Charles, and Erik too."

That earned another laugh, "Yes, that's very true.  Do the two of you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

"We have a hotel," Hank said, almost hating to say it considering he knew how Charles would react. "It's not a bad one."

"You've already checked in?" Charles confirmed, looking at them reproachfully.

Hank glanced over at Alex, wondering if they should lie or if the reproachful look was too much. "Charles, we just came back. Of our own free will no less. Must you start the guilt trips?"

Alex sighed in response to Charles' ever so slightly confused glance, "Charles, we're grown men and we have a place to stay."

"There are plenty of rooms here that wouldn't cost you a dime.  And considering what I know you've been doing, Alex, and that you just got out of prison, Hank, I'm confused as to why you would turn that down."

"Because it means staying here," Hank said. He glanced at Alex again. "I suppose... I suppose we could stay. We're leaving early enough in the morning."

Charles drew back ever so slightly before waving a dismissive hand, "Oh don't trouble yourselves.  You've apparently got reservations elsewhere and I would hate to make you cancel those."

Hank rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. That's not quite... It's more the rough years I spent here. It wasn't your fault, but I haven't been back since I was a teenager. That's a lot of old angst."

Drawing a deep breath, Charles nodded, "Of course.  I wouldn't ask you to stay here if it makes you that uncomfortable."  He didn't look like he entirely believed what Hank had said, but he let it go.

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose, "And we're all going to see each other tomorrow, either way."

Hank glanced over at Alex, because it was not the same. "We can stay if you like," Hank said instead. "It sounds like it's been a long time since you had anyone around."

Charles' lips twisted at that, "Erik hates the place.  I can't say I blame him, though.  You can stay or go as you choose, but it would be nice to have someone else in this mausoleum for even just a night."

"Then why do you stay here?" Hank asked, pouring the hot water into the teapot.

"Because it's still my home," Charles answered with a shrug.

"But you're lonely here," Hank said.

"It's not so different being lonely here," came the reply.  "It might as well be here as somewhere else."

"You could try moving in with Erik," Hank said.

"That only ever lasts a handful of months, a couple years at the outside," Charles sighed.

Alex rolled his eyes, "Then ask if you could stay on as a guest or something instead of storming out.  He's got enough spare rooms in that place to house an army.  But they're airier than these ones."

"Less oppressive history," Hank said. "Not to mention you could actually make a go of being on for the rest of your lives. It's not like there's ever been anyone else."

"We'll see how the next few weeks go and I'll talk to him," Charles finally allowed.

"You don't do very well when you're alone," Hank said and winced, looking down at his feet. "It might be good for both of you is all."

Charles offered an almost bitter smile, "I'll talk to him.  We'll see what he says."

"He could say yes," Hank pointed out, pouring three cups of tea and handing one to Charles.

Charles curled his fingers around the mug as Alex took a drink of his and set it aside, "He could, and if he doesn't I'm no worse off."

"Come on then," Hank said, pushing himself off the counter. "I'll help you pack."

Charles straightened at that, glancing at Alex who shook his head, "I'm going to go get our bags and call the hotel to cancel."

Hank flashed Alex a look before he nodded. "Thank you."

Alex nodded, finishing his tea and inclining his head to Charles before slipping out.  Charles watched him go and shook his head, "Thank you for this, Hank."

"You were drinking scotch," Hank replied. "It wasn't noon."

"It was almost noon," Charles protested weakly, heading toward his suite of rooms.  Nearly every other room they passed that had an open door was filled with cloth-covered furniture.

"You shouldn't drink scotch before five, at least," Hank said, eyes drawn into each room as they passed. "You're not getting younger."

"You two worry too much," he replied, finally opening the door to his rooms, his study's windows open and the curtains drawn back wide to allow as much natural light and fresh air as possible.  The door to the bedroom was open and what could be glimpsed was covered in the clothes he had been choosing to pack.

"Charles, it's only going to be for a few weeks," Hank said, eying the clothing.

"I was deciding, not packing it all," the other replied.  "And Alex was rather mum about exactly what you two are expecting me to do."

"Well," Hank said, lifting up a suit jacket. "Look rich. Which you do in pretty much anything you own."

Charles nodded, immediately discarding several suits before running his hands over the others, "Rich, but nothing too outlandish I think.  Draw enough attention to get recognition, but not enough to be overly memorable. Would you fetch my ties and pocket squares, please?  They're in the top left dresser drawer."

"I remember," Hank said, moving over. He'd dressed Charles for jobs before, back when he was still learning. "You're too much of a creature of habit."

That earned a smirk as Charles located the suits he wanted, most in light colored neutrals with a couple of dark ones for evening, "I happen to like my habits."

"Even when they make you unhappy?" Hank asked, bringing the requested pocket squares and ties over.

"We all have habits for different reasons," Charles murmured as he selected a couple of dozen ties and squares in a variety of shades and colors, many in blue to emphasize his eyes.

"Which is why you stay in this house with covered furniture and drink scotch in the morning?" Hank asked, sitting on the edge of Charles' bed.

"Sometimes I think it's better to stay here with the ghosts I know than to find somewhere else," he murmured, running his hand over a deep blue tie that he remembered Raven giving him a few years before they all left.

"But then you'll always be with what you know makes you unhappy," Hank said. "Not that the fact we're all ungrateful little bastards helps anything, but if you don't do something new you'll just be stuck where you know you aren't happy."

Setting the tie in the pile that he wasn't taking, Charles shook his head, "Happiness is ephemeral, Hank.  It's a release of endorphins, nothing more."

Hank blinked. "Oh good god. I used not to think you could get any more depressed and there you go, having to prove me wrong."

"Fucking hell, Charles," Alex's voice came from the doorway.  "I'm officially calling Erik and telling him you have reached a new level in maudlin and he needs to solve that."

Charles blinked at them both in surprise, "What?  I..."

The sigh that came out of Hank was deep and heavy. "I guess that just means I'll have to never go to prison again then."

"I would hope you're avoiding that for other reasons," Charles said, blue eyes darting to Hank.

"I don't know, maybe I liked it inside," Hank said, arching his brow. "But at any rate, it clearly had far too ill an effect."

"Communication went to hell with you not here," Alex admitted.

"I'm seeing that," Hank said, looking over and grinning at Alex. "Ergo, I guess that means I'll just have to keep my nose clean and not do moronic, emotional things again."

Alex managed to grin at that, though he wanted to snarl that Hank sure as hell better not, "So, Charles, where're you putting us up?"

"There's two guest rooms open on the second floor, the first two doors on the left off the main stairs," he answered, finally having narrowed his ties down to what he might actually need.

"Alright," Hank said, pushing himself to his feet. "Come on Alex, lets at least throw our bags on the bed."

Alex nodded, "We'll be back down in a bit."

Hank stepped past Alex. "Are the bags still out in the car?"

"I left them in the foyer," Alex answered, following close on Hank's heels out the door.

Hank nodded, pausing at the turn off and continuing down the hall. He hesitated in front of a door before pushing it open.

Alex pushed the door to the adjacent room open and froze, "Oh, fuck."

Hank stepped inside and flopped down on the bed, fingering the sheets from where they were tucked into the bed. "You think after ten years he would have changed the rooms."

Alex entered Hank's old room rather than actually go into his, "It's Charles.  I think I'd be more surprised if he had."

"The sheets were washed," Hank said. "But they're the same sheets." he turned his head to look at the periodic table poster proudly displayed on one wall next to a Star Trek poster.

"Your room always seemed so...bare," Alex said, looking around at the handful of posters.  "He really does live in a haunted house, doesn't he?"

"It was enough of one of those before we left," Hank agreed. "It's why I hated it here, even though I loved and appreciated him and what he did."

"I would bet good money that lab in the back of the house is still locked," the blond murmured.  "I think the only thing that's changed is which rooms he's in."

Hank looked up. "That's a scary thought."

"It's depressing is what it is," Alex replied, moving over to sit next to Hank.

"I'm glad that at that age I was already a neat freak," Hank said. "And that I cleaned it before it got locked up for the next ten years."

Alex snorted, "Yeah. I'm not sure I even want to imagine the state Raven's is probably in."

"I don't either," Hank said, expression closing off.

Alex darted a glance at him and then away, "I'm serious about telling Erik what's going on here, though."

"He'll probably blow his stack and a hole in Charles' house," Hank said. "So it might work."

"Good.  Charles probably won't be happy with me, but I told him I would so he can't put up too much of a fuss."

"It might work out in his benefit too," Hank said, rolling over to look at Alex. "You know, back when we lived here you used to call me Bozo."

Alex paused at that before nodding, "Yeah.  I was an idiot teenager."

"I'm glad you grew out of it," Hank said, tilting his head back.

"So'm I.  Never did quite grow out of feeling like anything you did put my tricks to shame."

"What?" Hank asked, feeling stupid as he propped himself up on his elbow.

"Oh, God.  Don't make me repeat that," Alex groaned.

"You're a good con too," Hank said. "You don't just do tricks."

"There's a difference between good and great.  And you, Henry McCoy, are a great one," Alex shrugged. "I realized that years ago."

Hank stared at him. "You haven't drunken anything today have you?" he asked, expression wary.

"Unlike our illustrious teacher I don't drink alone, or before 5 pm." Alex said by way of answer.

Nodding, Hank considered him for a long minute, not speaking. "I would have once never believed you would say that to me. But I wouldn't have believed myself either. You're the only partner I could ever ask for. There's no one else I'd run a con like this with."

Alex blinked at him for a long moment, "You...You're right, there's a part of me from ten years ago that wants to say you're lying, but you'll notice that really the best con I could find while you were away was cold-decking Hollywood wannabes.  I had a couple other jobs, but they were easy and I really went for the cash.  This?  This is a challenge and fuck if I don't like that."

Hank's fingers twitched and he leaned forward before he turned his motion into something else, standing up. "I'm glad things turned out this way," he said. "We should check on Charles in case he's doing something else stupid."

"I'll be down soon, I want to go see if there's any music I want to take with me when we go."

"You and your music," Hank said and then he shook his head at himself and retreated to grab his bag and drop it in the guest room before rejoining Charles.


	3. It Will Be Dangerous

Sipping at a martini, Erik pulled open the door to see Angel on the other side. "You're the first," he said, stepping to one side, well dressed but casual in slacks and a black turtleneck. "Come in."

She looked around as she stepped in, her hair loose and a leather jacket draped around her shoulders, "I swear every time I see this place something's changed somehow."

"I'm a man of change," Erik said, taking another sip from his glass. "There's a buffet and a bar. Help yourself."

Angel strolled over to mix herself a drink, "How many did they end up with in the crew, have you heard?"

"Eleven," Erik said, leaning against the wall by the door, ankles crossed. She whistled lowly even as another knock came on the door.

Erik pulled it open without moving and Logan and Scott barreled through. "I hope you have a bar," Logan said, cigar chomped between his teeth. Erik just waved a hand toward it.

Scott rolled his eyes, "Hey, Erik."  He offered Angel a smile, "And Angel, it's good to see y'."

She returned the smile, "Always a pleasure, Slim."

Logan already had a drink when the next knock came and the door opened on Darwin, Kurt, and Sean. "How did you three end up in a taxi together?" Erik asked.

"Sheer luck," Darwin said, slinking into the room.

Kurt stepped in behind him, offering a slight bow to Erik before offering a sweeping one to Angel, " _Guten Nacht_." Sean slipped through the door almost as though he hoped to escape notice.

Glancing over, Logan arched a brow. "Some accent you got there kid."

Kurt offered him a bright grin, sliding over, "It comes from living there much of one's life, _nicht whar_?"

"However did you make it here?" Logan asked.

"I came with the circus," he answered, grin sharpening.

Erik's brows went up, though his shoulders had tensed at the German words and accent in his living room. "Recruiting from the circus now, are we?" Logan asked. "Well I guess it keeps things interesting."

"I must admit it is the most unusual job offer I have been given," Kurt said as another knock rang out.

When Erik opened the door, Emma swept in, long blond hair swept up and wearing a white pantsuit. "Erik," she greeted.

"Emma," he replied and they gave each other a tiny nod before she turned her gaze over the room. "Gentlemen, Angel."

Angel mixed a drink she knew Emma preferred before approaching the other woman and offering it to her, "Oh thank God they got you in on this."

Scott looked up, his eyebrows rising very slightly, but he kept his mouth shut for the moment. The corner of Emma's mouth twitched. "It is inspiring in terms of their wisdom, isn't it?"

Angel rolled her eyes, "And he wasn't even a day out of prison when he showed up to pitch it to me."

"One supposes he had a lot of time to think things over," Emma said with a faint laugh. "His plans have never let anyone down before."

"Except that last time," Erik said, still waiting by the door and though he was not moving anymore he was clearly starting to become agitated.

"That was not entirely his fault," Angel replied even as the door opened without a knock.

Charles paused very slightly when he saw how many people were already there, but stepped inside, his gaze flicking to Erik.

"Keep going," Hank said behind him. He looked around one, stepping aside to allow Alex in. "Good, everyone's here. Sorry we're late," he added, glancing sideways at Charles.

"Five minutes is hardly late, Hank," Charles replied, slipping easily into a more relaxed persona.

Erik's eyes barely narrowed and he made sure the door was locked before finally moving away, putting the room between himself and Charles for the moment.

"We're still the last ones in," Hank said and dropped the subject, even though Charles had tried to back out at the last second. "Everybody sober?" He glanced over at Logan as the stocky man laughed around his cigar. "Or close enough. Good. Most of you know each other, that's Sean Cassidy, Tom's kid, and Kurt Wagner over there, from the circus."

Alex stepped up next to Hank, gaze sweeping around the room, "So, most of you have already told us to our faces that you think we're insane and that the job is too, but you're still here, so we're going to assume that means you're in.  As always, you have the option of walking away, but that option lasts until we actually start implementing.  Meaning tonight.  If you stick around, you're in it for the long haul."

"It will be dangerous," Hank said.

"Boyo, please," Emma said, pushing herself off the wall she was leaning against, near Erik. "I assume the models are that way?" she added, pointing with her drink before strolling through the door, white heels clicking on the floor.

Angel picked up her martini again before following Emma.  Alex couldn't help but grin as he watched them go, "As Emma said, models are through there.  Feel free to join us, or eat a bit and be on your way.  It's your choice."  He turned and headed to follow the women, Scott joining him at the doorway and stepping back to let the blond through first.

Hank watched the others start to file in, waiting until Logan stepped inside before following. He shook his head at where Erik was watching Charles, still across the room. "We should talk," he told Erik on his way past.

Charles carefully situated himself away from Erik, barely so much as glancing at the other as Alex perched on the arm of one of the couches near the most central point in the room.  The blond motioned to the model situated on the table in the middle of the room, "This is our target, or rather targets.  The 14000 block of Las Vegas Boulevard." Emma circled the pool table and then nodded, stepping back.

"They're all owned by Shaw," Hank said. "This block has three of the most productive casinos in all of Las Vegas." He flipped open the model, showing the complex substructure underneath it, the vault of the Bellagio as the centerpiece. "All three share one vault."

"And that's what we're robbing?" Sean asked, skeptically.

"Got it in one, kid," Alex nodded.

Scott frowned at the model, considering the structure, "So, what are we talking about here exactly?  It's got to be some job to need all of us."

Hank flicked on several TVs, showing security footage from all three of the casinos. "Of course it's some job. The security on these vaults is so intense that most nuclear missile silos have less safeguards."

"We're going to have to get into the casino cages first," Alex indicated the location of the cages.  "Which will take a hell of a lot more than a smile and batted eyelashes."

"Even with such lovely women on our team," Hank added and Emma laughed, her smile full of teeth. "After that, we still have to get through these doors, and each of them needs a different six number code, changed every twelve hours. And then there's the elevator."

The people in the room looked from the tape back down to the model, several of them looking quite concerned. "Oh, and we almost forgot," Alex cut in.  "The elevator requires authorized fingerprint identification and vocal confirmation from both the security center inside the Bellagio and from the vault below."

"Which we will not be given," Hank added. "The elevator is rigged with motion detectors too, so if we try to manually wire the lift the shaft's exit will lock down automatically and we'll be totally trapped."

"Of course, once we're down it's no trouble at all.  Just three guards with Uzis and inclination to not be robbed, oh and the most elaborate vault doors mankind has ever seen," Alex finished with a grin.  "Any questions at all?"

"Yeah, how the fuck are we getting in?" Logan asked.

"Well, that's what we're here for, isn't it?" Alex replied, glancing around.

"Tunneling?" Kurt offered from where he was perched.

"No, they have Richter scales monitoring the ground.  Trust us, they'd know if anything happened there," Alex answered.  "But there is some good news."

"Yeah, and what's that?" Logan asked, Erik leaning against the wall and smirking.

Hank grinned, nodding to Erik who already knew exactly what he was going to say. "The Nevada Gaming Commission demands that a casino has to hold in reserve enough cash to cover every chip at play on its floor. This vault serves not one casino but three. During the week that means law says it holds sixty to seventy million dollars. On a weekend, that's eighty to ninety million. On a fight night, such as the one in two weeks, it holds at least a hundred and fifty million."

"There's eleven of us, all of us have an equal share."  Alex smirked, "You all do the math."

There was a moment of silence as they did the math, Scott whistling lowly, "That's a hell of a lot of money."

"Exactly," Hank nodded. "We're robbing it two weeks from tonight."

"Before we go further, I have a question," Charles spoke up.  "Let's say we manage this.  Get into the cage, through the doors, and down the elevator we can't move, past the guards, and into the vault we can't open."

"And aren't seen by the cameras," Alex supplied, earning a distracted nod.

"Right, yes, of course.  So say that's managed, we're just walking out of there with more than a hundred million in cash on us?"

"Yeah," Hank said, a slow smile spreading across his face. It spoke of complete confidence in himself and his plan, and was the smile that Alex could never have denied and he didn't expect anyone to do so now.

Charles rubbed his fingers over his eyebrow, shaking his head, "Alright, then.  What's your plan?"

"We're going to need reconnaissance," Hank said. "We have two weeks for everyone to be damned familiar with these places. Casinos are like labyrinths and I want everyone to understand how to get in and out and everything there has ever been to know about every guard and their grandmother in that place. Darwin," he said, looking over at the other man who arched a brow. "I need you to turn off the power the night of the fight."

"I figured it was going to be something like that," Darwin agreed.

"Emma, I expect you to survey the hell out of that place," Hank said and Emma laughed, crossing her arms underneath her breasts.

"Of course, darling," she said.

"That's where we start," Hank said. "We're going to build an exact replica of the vault, we're going to need transportation, and," he glanced over at Sean. "We're going to need those codes from Shaw himself. I fully expect you to become that's man shadow."

Sean paused for a moment at that and then nodded, "I can do that."

Alex smirked, "I should hope so, kid.  The rest of us are on construction for the time being.  Except those named, and Angel who needs to be at work every night."

"I am way too old for construction," Erik said, still smiling like a predatory shark.

"I would never ask it of you," Hank said, giving him a sideways look.

"And really, Alex," Charles started.

"The two of you are exempt on default and you both know it," Alex cut him off.

"The benefits of age," Erik smirked.

"And being the wealthiest bastards in the room," Logan added under his breath.

"So, now you both know the basics of the plan.  We'll be getting places in Las Vegas tomorrow and get started.  Tonight?  Erik's provided us food and drink.  Enjoy it," Alex said with another grin.

Logan smirked, happily moving off to where the food was as Emma leaned over and started talking quietly to Angel. Erik and Charles were still on opposite sides of the room and Hank looked around before approaching Erik.

Alex watched as Kurt gravitated toward the food even as he followed Hank and stopped on Erik's other side.  "We need to talk."

"Hank said the same thing," Erik said, leaning against the wall.

"It's Charles.  You both need to stop this repeat performance," Alex said bluntly.

"Repeat performance?" Erik repeated, tone entirely mild though his eyes were hard.

"The on and off again thing," Hank said.

"Charles is more depressed than I have ever seen him in my life," Alex supplied, glancing toward Hank.

"Exceedingly so," Hank agreed, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping one of his fingers against his elbows as he watched the others mill around the room, eating and talking.

Erik only watched Charles. "He's often depressed," he shrugged. "That's not new and is mostly his own damn fault."

"You don't help that much," Hank replied. "Even if he is usually the one to storm out you've done your share of it too."

"He told Hank that happiness is ephemeral and nothing more than a release of endorphins," Alex frowned, looking at Erik from the corner of his eyes.  "He's living alone in that haunted house with the doors open and all the furniture covered."

The line of Erik's shoulders tensed. "You've always called it a mausoleum," Hank said. "Well, that's really damn true now. Did you know our rooms are exactly the same as they were ten years ago? He lives alone in a museum of his own sorrow."

"You two haven't been helping much," Erik said instead.

"You're right we haven't," Alex replied.  "That's not what's in question here.  He was drinking scotch at eleven-thirty in the morning and intentionally betting on losing hounds when I went and offered him this heist."

Erik sighed. "And I assume you want me to do something about it."

"Neither of you are getting any younger," Hank pointed out and moved away.

Alex nodded very slightly, "What he said.  Charles cannot stay in that place any longer, but he won't leave it without a push or pull."  He shrugged, "Something to think about seriously."  With those words he crossed the room to perch near Sean and try to pull the kid into conversation.

Erik turned his glare from one of them to the other, and when Hank left his conversation with Angel and Emma to join Sean and Alex, he started circling around the room, closer and closer to where Charles was listening to Scott and Logan, Darwin laughing at them behind Logan's back.

Charles' lips were curved in an amused smile as he listened to the two brothers bickering, though when he glanced away toward Erik the expression was nowhere near his eyes.  He drew his attention back to the conversation as Kurt moved over to perch nearby, grinning.

"This is not a show," Logan protested, noticing the two men perched behind them and Charles' expression in front of them.

"Then you should not be so amusing," Emma said, joining Kurt.

Kurt offered her a charming grin even as Scott rolled his eyes, "You call it amusing, I call it day-to-day."

"Then your day to day is quite amusing," Emma said.

Scott's lips quirked at that, and he shrugged, "If you say so."

Alex glanced up from his conversation with Hank and Sean, "We do say so.  Half the reason you're here is how amusing as hell you two are when you get going."

"We have to have something to take the tension off," Hank added and Logan gave him a long look.

"Well what about when you get going?" he asked and Hank shrugged.

Alex shook his head, "Ours is usual.  Everyone knows ours.  You guys seem to have something new every time we see you."

"Not everyone knows yours," Emma pointed out.

"Alright, point. _Most_ everyone knows ours," Alex replied with a shrug.

Charles sighed, looking faintly bemused, "And, really, we've hardly been around each other enough to start in on that already."

"We can always start in on that," Hank shrugged, Erik making another half circuit of the room, stopping closer than where he had started.

Charles sighed, "Must we?  There are so many other things."

"But we have new people, Charles, they haven't heard any of the horror stories," Alex said, grinning.

"And we have... so many stories," Hank said, drawing the words out.

Charles offered them a long look, but simply took a drink of the gin he'd poured himself.  Sean spoke up, "Like what?"

"Like why you should never let Erik anywhere near you if you're on a high place," Alex supplied by way of answer.

"He went through a phase where he decided to push us both off high areas."

"At least you had cables," Alex reminded, ignoring Sean's wide-eyed stare.

"Yes," Hank agreed. "But we were on a job."

"You handled it," Erik shrugged, as if that was enough justification for his actions. "We got the jewels and we got out."

"And your explanation for shoving me off with a hang-glider that I wasn't ready for?" Alex asked, eyes moving to Erik.

"You were being whiny," he shrugged. "Besides at that point it was only fair."

Alex shook his head, "You are a horrible parent.  Both of you," he looked toward Charles who shrugged.

"As Erik said, he'd already pushed Hank off, I figured he'd learned from that fight.  When he repeated the action with you it was time to cut that precedent short."

"You said it was fair too," Erik said. "Besides, I didn't do it on the job again."

"Well, it was fair," Charles agreed.  "Even if I had originally meant that you needed to stop pushing them off things regardless of being on a job or not."

"He learns slowly," Hank said and Erik gave him a long look. "Though I still have to say, cables or not, there was really no real comparison between the events."

"I was younger, I think it evens things out a little bit," Alex suggested.

"By a year!" Hank said. "You were not in the middle of a job, hearing them yell at each other above you and hoping to god the cables didn't snap—which they didn't, only a foot above the security perimeter."

Alex grinned, "Alright, that's true.  How many guards did you end up facing down with Erik?"

"Four," Hank said. "He convinced them he was their superior and walked right past, all the gold and cash and jewels in the bag."

"You lucky bastard," Alex shook his head.  "Same number of guards.  All he fucking did was grin at them."

"Well it's a very scary grin," Hank said and Erik modeled it for them across the room. "Really, gun or not I'd stay the fuck away from that too."

"And which lines did Charles use when you two ended up in that same position?" Alex stretched his arms along the back of the couch, ignoring the ear-to-ear grin Kurt was wearing and the way Sean seemed to be easing away to put a bit of space between them.

Hank shrugged. "I don't remember. Something to charm their socks off. That time I was a little too panicked to really pay attention until we were out the door."

"I still can't believe the ailing grandmother line got us out of a place with a whole necklace of diamonds."

"I'm not sure I've heard the ailing grandmother story," Emma remarked.

"We learned from the best," Hank agreed. "Including how to con the fuck out of people using our natural talents. With Charles, it's the big eyes and the innocent look."

Charles offered a charming smile, raising his glass, "It's all a matter of reading people."

"There was no way you could have known that telling the guard you were up against a wall for ways to pay for your ailing grandmother's care would get us out of there rather than shot," Alex protested.

"He was clearly a family man, and he was looking for an excuse not to have to deal with us as well," Charles answered simply.

"Big blue eyes and a boyish grin," Hank shrugged. "That's all you need apparently."

"Well, they certainly don't do any harm," Charles allowed.

Sean looked between them, "I thought my folks were crazy, I'm beginning to think they're sane...sort of."

"Any family would be sane," Hank said. "In comparison."

"I've met your folks," Alex supplied.  "They're the most normal cons I've ever known."

"It must have been so nice," Hank sighed, propping his chin in one palm.

Sean shrugged, "Didn't seem much like it, but I also didn't know it could be worse, or rather crazier."

"It can be so, so much worse, child," Hank said, laughter buried behind his voice as he looked over. "We were in the mansion since we were children, and believe me when I say we had the most colorful education."

"I only pushed you off a building once," Erik pointed out.

"And then you found such new and interesting ways to keep us on our toes," Hank said, shaking his head.

"And look where it's got you," Erik said. "The craziest con anyone's thought up in a decade or more."

Charles nodded his agreement, "You two are one of the best pairs of cons that have been seen in this country in decades, so I wouldn't complain too much if I were you."

"You threw us off buildings!" Alex protested, "That is not good parenting, no matter _what_ you were training us for."

"You had cables and hang gliders," Erik shrugged.

"And you had no guarantee either of those things wouldn't break," Alex shot back.

Charles shook his head, "We were hardly going to give you two faulty equipment."

"Still doesn't help, Charles," Hank said, shaking his head.

Charles shrugged dismissively, "You're both still alive, so it obviously worked out just fine."

"I don't know Alex, would you call yourself fine?" Hank asked, looking over.

Alex snorted, "I'd say I'm one of the most fucked up sons of bitches you'll ever meet."

"Not all of which you can blame on us," Charles remarked.

"We can blame about eighty percent plus," Hank replied and looked over at Erik, something in his expression daring him.

Charles looked skeptical at that, but Alex cut him off, "Charles, really, I could pick any lock you handed me by the time I was nine.  That's not a normal childhood."

"Or good for being a productive member of society," Hank added and Emma laughed, holding one of her hands up to cover her mouth.

Charles glanced at her, lips curving upward again, "Productive members of society are so dull, though."

"But they make nice lives for themselves I hear," Hank sighed.

"Boring," Logan agreed. "Totally boring."

Scott shrugged, "There's probably some merit to it, but really why choose anything that forces you to do the same thing day in and day out."

"A consistent paycheck would be nice," Angel offered.

"You're a dealer, you have one of those," Alex reminded without missing a beat.

"A consistent paycheck gets you working with the FBI," Emma reminded them.

"And the tradeoff is that you then have to deal with them interfering with everything you do," Charles supplied, leaning back in his seat.

"Something like that," she agreed and Hank almost missed Erik slipping out of the room, fingers skimming over Charles' hair on his way to the staircase.

"So, Scott," Alex started with a grin, "how did those engine parts you were buying work out?"

Scott groaned, leaning against the table with the models, "Logan ran them over and I couldn't salvage a single one.  That's how they worked out."  Charles took the opportunity offered by the topic shift to slip away quietly, following Erik up the stairs without a word.

Erik waited for him at the top of the staircase, leaning against the banister. "Enjoying your night?" he asked, arms crossed as a drink dangled from one hand.

Charles shrugged, offering him a smile that still didn't quite reach his blue eyes, "Why wouldn't I be?  We're on the brink of a con that no one has ever managed before."

"And I'm certain we shall succeed," he said. "I do believe the children have outgrown us."

"Do you ever think we've become superfluous?" Charles asked, leaning against the banister next to Erik.

"No," Erik said. "I think we become old after a time, and a bit slower, but we are still good at what we do and they still come to us for help and funding and I don't think they're humoring us."

"They've become more than I ever expected them to," he admitted quietly.

"We should have expected it," Erik said and pushed off the banister, following the staircase up the rest of the way and out onto a balcony.

Charles drew a deep breath, looking down the stairs for a moment before trailing after Erik up and out.  He paused just barely onto the balcony, "I almost wish they hadn't."

"Why?" Erik asked, leaning against the railing and crossing his ankles. "Shouldn't all parents wish their children to grow beyond them? Or is it because they make you feel inadequate?"

"They make me feel old is what they make me feel," he answered, softly.  "Old and tired.  I'm glad they've accomplished what they have, but I wish they hadn't grown."

"You wanted them to remain strays that relied on you," Erik said, not making it much of a question.

"Selfishly, yes," Charles agreed, finally moving out to lean against the railing, elbows resting on it as he took in the view away from the house.

"You've always been intensely selfish," Erik said, watching him without moving.

"I have moments of altruism."

"They are moments, Charles, it should be a lifetime," Erik said. "It should be a characteristic you cultivate, not bring out from time to time for the fun of it or because you are bored."

Charles sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes, "It should have been, yes.  But really Erik, it's not a habit I ever cultivated, nor one I've ever much wanted to."

"Then why do you dwell on it?" Erik asked, starting to prowl over. "Why do you dwell on the things that make you unhappy?"

"You sound like Hank," he murmured, watching Erik out of the corner of his eye.

"They cornered me actually," Erik said. "Said you'd reached new levels of maudlin and were drinking before noon."

Charles sighed, "I need to start paying more attention to Alex's threats."

"So it was entirely true then?" Erik said. "That you live in a house with all the doors open and covered furniture?"

"I don't, really." Charles protested weakly.  "The upstairs is still closed up, but the lower level was musty, so, yes?"

Erik reached forward, curling his fingers around Charles' chin. "Why do you think retirement is a good plan?"

He turned his head to look at Erik, "I don't.  Not, not really."

"Then why do you insist on the shame charade, time after time?" Erik asked, tilting his head back to meet his eyes.

"Because, maybe, I'm tired of this same thing over and over again but don't know how to break it," Charles replied quietly.

"Then break it," Erik said, almost a snarl. "Shatter what makes you unhappy and forge a new path because damn everything that's come before."

Charles tensed before pulling back and snapping, "Because it's always that easy."

Erik shrugged. "Sure."

"And when we have another fight like the last one?  Or the one before that?  What then, Erik?"

"Then maybe you'd consider storming to another room and not across the country," Erik said, pinning Charles against the railing with a hand on either side of his arms.

Charles pressed back against the railing, eyes narrowed, "So you're actually expecting us to be able to stay in the same place after our next fight?"

Erik shrugged. "Doesn't old age make people more inclined to stay in one place?"

"In theory. We've never been normal, though," Charles replied, though his expression was easing slightly as they talked.

"No," Erik agreed. "But maybe we should work on our fights instead of having the same ones over and over."

The smaller man watched his reaction carefully, "You're so sure we could do that?"

"We could try it," Erik said, inching his body closer. "Unless you'd rather go back to that tomb."

"I," he paused before seeming to deflate at that thought.  "I can't.  I can't go back to that, that mockery of a home."

"Then don't," Erik said. "You know I only own two or three houses."

That finally earned a ghost of Charles' real smile, "And they're all on this coast, aren't they?"

"Well one's in Vegas," Erik said. "Only a state away. Then there's this house, and the coastal villa you seem to like so much."

"I've lived in New York but away from the coast, and the sea, and," he paused, shaking his head to himself.  "I like the idea of that villa."

"I'm fond of it too," Erik said, still leaning closer.

Charles reached up to let his arms drape around Erik's shoulders, "God I've missed you."

"Then don't run so far," Erik said, leaning down and stopping an inch from Charles' mouth.

"I," he stopped himself from saying anything and closed the gap between them, his fingers tangling in Erik's hair.

Erik pressed his entire body against the railing, one hand on Charles' hip and the other at the back of his head. Moaning into the kiss, Charles' free hand moved to Erik's waist for balance as much as to keep the other close.

"Would you like to try yet?" Erik asked.

"Yes," Charles murmured.  "I can't do this again."

"Then don't," Erik said as if it was that easy.

"I still don't understand how you end up thinking everything is so direct and, and simple," Charles shook his head.  "Nothing can really be so simple as that."

"It should be," Erik said, rolling his shoulders and pressing down to drag their mouths together again, the touch teasing. Making a soft sound in the back of his throat, Charles tipped his head back to change the angle of the kiss as he slid a hand up Erik's chest.

"The children are right," Erik said, moving around to drag his teeth along Charles' earlobe. "We aren't getting any younger."

Charles' breath caught, "They are.  We, we could make this work."

"It takes two, Charles," Erik said, tilting his head to touch his other ear. "You have to be committed to this too."

"I," he paused. "Erik, this is what I've wanted for years.  But you know how I am, I can't, I can't promise that.  Not yet."

"Find a way," Erik said.

"Right now?"

"Soon," Erik said. "As soon as you can," he leaned down nibbling along Charles' jawline.

Charles nodded, drawing a deep breath, "I, I will.  As soon as I can."

"Then we might be capable of coming to an agreement," Erik said, kissing him deeply, both hands bracing against the small of Charles' back.

Arching against Erik, Charles pressed into the kiss.  He drew back for a breath, his lips still brushing Erik's, "They'll be busy downstairs for ages yet."

"Yes," Erik agreed. "You remember the way, I presume?"

"If you haven't changed rooms, yes," he answered, not quite willing to move away from Erik.

"Not recently," Erik agreed, stepping back and dragging Charles with him, abandoning his glass on the railing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the wonderful response. We're so sorry about how long this chapter took but VS has been sick for a week and a half and we've just started classes again for the fall. And VS is celebrating her birthday this weekend, so we've been doing things around that as well. Hope you enjoy the latest update!


	4. Your Plans Tend To Go To Hell

As Emma and Scott and Logan worked on getting a security feed into the circuitry of the Bellagio and Angel helped them gather information on the guards and other employees, the rest of the team worked on building a life size replica of the vault. "We have to practice on this," Hank said. "Because nothing can go wrong—Sean, Sean, that's the wrong size beam."

Sean put the beam down, looking at the assortment of materials, "There are four different sizes of beams, Hank, which ones are supposed to be used?"

"That one," Hank said, pointing. "By the way, starting tomorrow morning I want you shadowing Shaw. Learn his habits, the habits of the people around him, and what he does at night. Especially at night. He's a man of certain pleasures."

"All I'm doing is watching him?  Really?"  Sean paused, turning to look at Hank before grabbing the right piece for the vault.

"We need the security codes, and Shaw's the one with all of them, kid," Alex reminded.

"You have to walk before you can crawl," Hank said.

Sean shot him an incredulous look and Alex waved his hand as he went over the selection of floor tiles, "Scratch that, reverse it."

Hank blinked and rubbed a hand over his face. "Right, crawl before you can walk, point being we need those codes so follow him."

"And you need sleep sometime in the next 24 hours," Alex said absently.

Sean grimaced, "Alright, as of tomorrow I'll start following him."

"We had something else to do," Hank said, dismissing the comment about sleep. "Ah, yes, meeting Charles and Erik at the tailors. For someone with so much money how does Charles dress so badly?"

"Didn't he bring like, six suits?" Alex groaned.  "I really don't want to sit through another suit fitting with him."

"They're apparently not good enough, according to Erik," Hank shrugged. "Come on, let's go. Sean, I expect great things of you," he added over his shoulder as he strode away from the construction zone.

"Are you leaving me the blueprints?"  Sean called.

"They're on the table.  If you have trouble reading them, talk to Darwin," Alex tossed back as he followed Hank.

"Why am I stuck with the newbie?" Darwin called after them. "I have sewers to rig!"

"Because if you weren't stuck with the newbie you'd be at Charles' suit-fitting," Alex replied.  "Better to rig those sewers tonight anyhow." Darwin sighed, shaking his head before turning back to the others, barking out orders.

x-x-x-x

Hank leaned against the wall, still rubbing his hand over his eyes. "Charles, please..."

"Hank, if I’m going to be stuck wearing this I would prefer it be something I'm comfortable in," Charles replied before snapping at the tailor about how he was taking in the slacks.

"What you're comfortable in is sweater vests or cardigans, Charles.  You look like a college professor at best," Alex sighed, letting his head bang back against the wall.

"A frumpy college professor," Hank added.

"It's Armani, Charles," Erik said from where he was prowling around the room.

"And it's very nice Armani, Erik," Charles agreed.  "I just...you know how I feel about these sorts of suits."

"And you know why you need one," Alex muttered.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Hank asked, because if there was one thing Charles needed it was a push.

Charles fell very still at that, waving the tailor off with every bit of imperiousness he'd learned growing up.  He turned to face Hank, "If you _ever_ ask me that again, Henry, I will see to it that you do not wake the next morning.  Am I clear?"

"Quite," Hank said and ducked his head down to hide his smile.

Alex turned away to fetch the tailor to keep himself from laughing as Charles looked back in the mirror.  He ran a hand over the suit and glanced briefly in Erik's direction, his lips curving upward ever so slightly, "It's very nice."

Erik stepped up on the podium where Charles stood, curling his fingers under his chin. "If you wear it well enough, I can take it off you later."

Charles smirked, "I like that incentive.  I'll wear it well, you know I will."

"Good," Erik said, knocking his fingers against Charles' chin and stepping back. He shot Hank a look over his shoulder as he moved and Hank just shook his head.

Alex and the tailor managed to enter the room a few minutes later, though the tailor seemed slightly unwilling.  He moved over and set to work on the suit again.  Charles glanced past the tailor to Erik, "They have actually explained how much I may end up glad-handing with him, haven't they?"

"Shaw you mean?" Erik asked, going back to prowling around the room.

"Yes, that is who I mean," he replied, ignoring the tailor as he watched Erik carefully.

"Knock him down, Charles," Erik said softly. "And I won't have to kill him."

Charles' lips curled upward, "That's the plan, of course, love."

"Then I do not believe we'll have a problem," Erik said, still moving and it made Hank restless.

Charles shook his head, "Erik, stop pacing, for the love of God."

Erik shrugged and kept moving. "When you get to the hotel," Hank said, focusing back on his plan. "Scott and Logan are going to pose as your bodyguards. We have plenty of money for you but don't spend it too quickly. Just you know, scare the shit out of everyone there."

"I am liking this plan more and more," Charles said, smirking.

Alex sighed, crossing his arms, "Of course you do."

"Bodyguards, money, gorgeous suits?  Sounds like my alternate future," he mused as the tailor finally stepped back.

"Live it up, Charles," Hank said, shaking his head slightly.

Charles laughed, "I intend to.  Have you heard from Emma, yet?"

"Her feed is up and running," Hank replied. "And Angel got the cars this morning."

"And Darwin?"

"Is currently overseeing construction," Alex answered, letting his eyes close where he was leaning against the wall.

"Everything is going according to plan," Hank said. "Come on, let's pay for this suit."

"When am I supposed to go to the hotel?" Charles asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Alex answered.

Charles glanced at Erik as he stepped away to get into his street clothes, "Back to your house then?"

"Yes," Erik agreed, taking his hand.

Fingers curling around Erik's, Charles offered him a smile before leaning up and kissing him lightly.  Alex pushed off from the wall, making a dissatisfied sound, "And you've started again already."

"I thought that's what you wanted," Erik said, smirking over at him.

"That doesn't make it less cavity inducing," Alex replied, shaking his head. Erik twirled Charles around once before leading him to his clothing.

x-x-x-x

Two days after Charles had taken a room in the Bellagio, Alex met up with Sean outside the restaurant at the casino.  Alex picked at the small plate of hors d’oeuvres he had, "So, talk to me, kid."

"Shaw is a goddamn machine," Sean answered, reaching for one of the hors d'oeuvres only to get his hand slapped away.  "He arrives here every day at 2.  Always the same car with the exact same driver.  He knows every valet's name, considering he's worth just shy of a billion dollars that's saying something.  His offices are upstairs and he's in them until he shows up in the lobby at seven on the dot.  Every night.  He talks to his casino manager for three minutes."

"About?"

"Business.  He likes to know what's going on in the casinos.  If there's an incident he knows about it and or handles it personally.  He spends a few minutes with the high rollers," he nodded in the general direction of the casino floor where he knew Charles was at one of the tables.  "He speaks Spanish, German, and Italian and his Japanese isn't too rusty either.  He's off the floor by seven-thirty when he gets a portfolio holding the day's take and the new security codes.  He goes straight to the restaurant from there."

Alex checked his watch, "Seven-thirty?"

"Your watch is fast, give him ten seconds."

Sure enough, Shaw appeared holding the portfolio and walked past them into the restaurant.  Sean glanced at Alex, "A goddamn machine."

"And that portfolio holds the codes we need?"

"They were changed two minutes before he got them.  You guys picked a hell of a target.  He's smart.  He's ruthless and he'll gut you to show the next son of a bitch who tries to rob from him exactly why they shouldn't," Sean adjusted his collar nervously.

Alex grinned, "You scared?"

"You suicidal?"

That earned a chuckle with no answer, "Now what?"

"Now?  Now comes the girl, if she comes in after he does like tonight?  They're in a snit."

"Where from?"

Sean pointed to the stairs, "The museum.  She's the curator.  Wait, here she is."

Alex looked up from where he was considering the last couple hors d'oeuvres as a beautiful blond woman came down the hall, her hair elegantly piled on her head, with a few locks loose around her face.  She wore a deep blue, professional dress that hugged every curve.  Moving with a purpose to her steps, there was little doubt that she was a woman who knew exactly where she was and who she was.  Alex paled.

Sean tilted his head on one side, "I don't know if we can use her.  Hell, I haven't actually gotten her name yet."

Alex turned away to examine the potted plant before she could see his face, "Raven.  Her name.  Is Raven."

Sean blinked at him, "How do you know?"

Alex waited until she had entered the restaurant before turning around, setting the plate down and grabbing Sean's arm, "Doesn't matter.  We need to get back to the warehouse."

x-x-x-x

Looking up from where he was bent over the plans with Darwin, Hank raised a brow. "Did you get the information you needed?"

Alex scowled at him, "More than.  Tell me this isn't about her."

"What do you mean?" Hank asked, expression closing off entirely.

"Raven," he snapped.  "You give me your fucking word that this isn't about screwing over the bastard who's screwing your _wife_."

Sean paled and carefully circled away from Alex and Hank, placing Darwin securely between himself and them.

"She's not my wife anymore," Hank ground out, hands still flat on the table. "Remember?"

"That sure makes a hell of a lot of difference right now, doesn't it?"  Alex's brown eyes narrowed dangerously, his temper too far gone to rein in.  "You maybe forget to mention the fact she's here?  Or are you going to try and tell me you didn’t know?"

Hank straightened, rolling his broad shoulders back. "We need to talk," he said, grabbing Alex's arm and pulling.

Alex reeled back, twisting and yanking his arm out of Hank's grip but falling into step with him, "Damn right we do."

"Must you make arguments like that so public?" Hank asked, not looking over at him as they walked down the hall.

Alex snarled at him, "Well excuse me for being surprised that you forgot to mention your fucking ex-wife is Shaw's current arm candy."

"I didn't know that when I planned this," Hank said. "How could I? She never wrote to me and I never asked her about anything. And she sure hasn't called Charles recently. Erik might have known because I figure this entire thing is a giant fuck you to him."

"Did you know before we got here?"

"Yes," Hank said, finally stopping.

Alex offered him a dark look, "Then you should have told me.  Do you remember how many of us she can identify?"

Hank shrugged. "Maybe that was part of my plan," he said, tone snide.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Alex growled.  "Because somewhere along the line you lost your goddamn mind."

"That's rich coming from you," Hank said. "What's your problem now?"

"Even if you didn't know when you started planning, how much of this is about her?"

"Why do you think it is about her?" Hank demanded, turning on one heel to stare down Alex.

Alex shoved past him, shaking his head, "Doesn't matter.  But I'm wondering why the hell you didn't let me know."

"Because it doesn't matter if you knew or not," Hank said, almost snarling as he caught Alex again.

Alex pulled away, but stumbled back against the wall, "Why wouldn't it matter?  We're supposed to be working together on this, Hank!  Not leaving out details that might be more than a little important!"

"Because she might recognize us?" Hank asked. "Or because you think I'd be stupid enough to be emotionally compromised around her?"

"Both, damn you," Alex snapped.

Hand slammed his hand into the wall by Alex's head. "I said I was making plans to deal with that fact. And I have spent too much of my life paying for being emotionally compromised."

"Yeah, well in case you missed it your plans tend to go to hell around her," Alex growled, brown eyes locked on Hank's face.  "And just ‘cause you've spent time paying for the last time doesn't mean it won't happen again!"

"Going to prison for five years gave me a lot of time to get over it," Hank said, voice dropping.

Alex put his hands up, shoving against Hank's chest with the intention of storming off again, "Yeah, enough to not let me know she's here."

"It didn't matter," Hank ground out.

"Yes, it fucking does," Alex replied.  "I came damn close to being seen by her this evening.  She walked past two feet from where Sean and I were."

"So?" Hank asked. "You're a card player and a con that doesn't mean you're scouting out this location." Even so he took half a step back. "I should have told you though."

"You're damn right you should have told me," came the snapped response as Alex pushed off the wall, following Hank.  "Warning, damn you."

"Well it's too late for that now," Hank said, taking another step back.

Alex pursued him, "And you claim you have a plan for dealing with the fact that she knows more than half our crew, or might know them at least?"

"Distraction," Hank shrugged, taking another step back with a small frown between his brows.

"Hell of a thing to try and distract her from," Alex replied.

"I'm sure I'll manage it," Hank said, tone prim in anger.

Alex tensed, recognizing the tone, "Oh don't you fucking dare."

"Excuse me?" Hank asked. "Don't I dare _what_?"

"Don't you dare go all 'polite so I don't kill you' on me.  Not now."

"Then what would you rather?" Hank ground out and his voice shook in anger.

"Who the hell knows, but don't you dare back down, Hank," Alex growled.

"Don't back down?" Hank repeated. "What have I ever done with you besides that?"

"Well maybe I'm fucking sick of you doing so.  Maybe I'm damn tired of hearing your voice tense into the perfectly civil tone you keep for when I really piss you off but you're too _controlled_ to admit it."

Before Alex could take in another breath Hank slammed him back against the wall they had been moving away from, palm digging into his shoulders. "Why are you so set on infuriating people?"

"Because someone's got to do it," Alex replied, eyes lighting up at finally getting more of a reaction out of Hank.  "We already know I'm fucked in the head, and so are you, you just don't let people see it.  Coward."

"I'm the coward here?" Hank asked, shoving forward further. "You left someone because they wouldn't get angry at you."

"There were other reasons for that," Alex snapped, eyes narrowing as his hands came up to Hank's lapels.

"Which were?" Hank asked, barely not leaning forward again.

"Not your business," Alex replied, meeting Hank's eyes and very aware of exactly how close they were.

"Isn't it?" Hank asked. "Then why bring it up?"

Alex scowled, "I don't know.  Why the hell are we talking about Darwin anyway?"

"Maybe because I'm sick of talking about Raven," Hank said. "And about control."

"Then _do_ something," Alex snapped, pushing against Hank's chest.

Hank grabbed the back of Alex's head, pulling his hair back. "You don't want me to."

Alex grinned, his eyes anything but amused and the expression as close to Erik's grin as he was ever likely to get, "Don't tell me what I don't want, Hank."

"I'm very certain you don't want what you're asking for," Hank said.

Alex pulled away from Hank's hand, ignoring the yank on his hair, and slammed their mouths together, hands curling around Hank's shirt front. In return Hank shoved him up against the wall, bracing him higher and keeping his hands curled in Alex's hair as he dragged their mouths together. Lips parting under Hank's, Alex bit down on the taller man's lower lip even as he pulled Hank closer.

That earned a growl as Hank dragged him away from the wall, breaking the kiss to pull Alex with him as he pulled the other behind his long strides. "We should talk," he said, but it sounded distracted and like he might not mean it.

Alex snorted, taking two stumbling steps for each of Hank's paces, "Yes, because we do that so well."

"We should talk about this," Hank said but turned him around to kiss him again, one hand holding Alex's wrist and the other cupping his chin.

Alex pressed up into the kiss, their noses jamming together as he missed his angle, "You always talk.  Act."

"We haven't talked," Hank said. "Not about this. I'm good at talking." He broke away to keep walking, intent on getting up the stairs.

"Yeah, cause we've had time to talk about this," Alex muttered, following so close on Hank's heels he nearly stepped on them.

"Haven't we?" Hank asked, stopping again halfway up the stairs and trailing his fingers down Alex's spine.

Alex shivered at that touch, crowding into Hank's space, "You were married and then in prison."

"You dated Darwin," Hank replied.

"Which was a mistake in the long run," Alex raked a hand through Hank's hair before turning to keep going up the stairs.

Hank caught his fingers on Alex's belt, turning him around. "You dated Darwin first," he said, looking up at Alex on the stairs. "Before that you called me bozo. What was I supposed to think? What should I have done?"

Alex put his hands on Hank's shoulders, "I figured you and that big brain of yours would figure it out, but you didn't."  He dove into another kiss, "Are we really having this conversation now?"

"Yes," Hank said, hands still wrapped around Alex's belt. "Because in ten minutes we won't."

The blond frowned down at him, "Alright, then, you want an honest answer for another reason why Darwin and I didn't work?  It's because he saw what you couldn't and wasn't jealous, at least he didn't act or sound jealous."

Hank blinked. "Did you honestly just tell me your last relationship did not work because you were in love with me and he did not care?"

"Yes, you goddamn idiot, that's exactly what I just said," Alex replied, shaking his head.

"You are so fucked up," Hank said but his eyes were wide and it was more like he was marveling at it than judging. He reared up, dragging Alex back down to collide with him, deepening the kiss abruptly before he pulled back. "Get upstairs."

Alex's eyes were glazed over when Hank pulled back.  He nodded and quickly retreated up the stairs, pulling Hank after him. Pinning him against the door of his room, Hank kissed him again, tilting his head back against the wood. Pressing into the kiss as best as he could, Alex moaned against it, "Fuck, Hank."

"That is the idea," Hank agreed, sliding his hand behind Alex's back and stroking there for a moment before getting the door open and shoving them both through, kicking it closed behind him.

"At this point it sure as hell better be," Alex muttered against Hank's lips.

"It is," Hank assured, and he slid his hands under Alex, knocking him off his feet and onto the bed behind him. "I would not make a promise I do not keep."

Alex smirked up at him, pulling Hank down with him by his shirtfront, "That I do know."

"As long as you learned something," Hank said, hands going underneath Alex's legs and pulling them against his waist. "I can get very angry at you."

"As fucked up as what I'm about to say is...that's good."

"You," Hank agreed, accentuating each word with a bite to Alex's collarbone. "Are so fucked up."

Alex tilted his head back, smirking, "You know?  I'm okay with that."

"And here I was so worried you wouldn't be," Hank said, rearing back to tear Alex's shirt over his head.

Yanking Hank's shirt off as well, Alex dragged the other down into another biting kiss, "Took you long enough."

"You are not one to talk," Hank said, sitting back on Alex's legs and cocking his head to one side, considering.

"We're still wearing too many clothes," Alex said rather than answer that accusation.

Hank groaned, leaning back down to nuzzle against Alex's stomach. "Someday I should teach you patience," he said. "I sadly do not believe it shall be today."

"Hank?"  Alex caught him by the chin and pulled him up until his lips brushed against Hank's ear, "Shut up."

"Oh all right," Hank mumbled and then proceeded to do exactly that.

Hours later he rolled over from where he had been sleeping and woke Alex up by kissing every inch of skin he could find, murmuring words as he moved as slowly as he could.

Alex carded a hand through Hank's hair, trying to draw a steady breath and failing horribly, "G-god, Hank.  Why the hell didn't we try this earlier?"

"Something about stupid teenagers and muddled brains," Hank said from where he was running his tongue along Alex's navel.

"I don't think I would have survived this at that, god Hank, at that point."

"I'd almost hope you wouldn't survive it now," Hank said, laughing against Alex's skin.

Alex let his eyes flutter shut, "I'm going to do my damndest to come out of, of this breathing."

Hank licked the skin he was hovering over, hands stroking Alex's chest. "Well, if you must," he said and moved. "You're lovely," he said, fingers sliding down to Alex's hips and just resting there as he kissed along the hipbone.

Opening his eyes again and managing to focus on the other, Alex trailed his fingers over Hank's ear, "You, you say the nicest things."

"Your skin," Hank said, voice low. "I used to dream about it. It always seemed so golden while I just felt pale."

"Your hands," Alex responded before realizing that wasn't a useful sentence.  "That was what showed up a lot.  Quick, agile, strong.  Yeah, those showed up in my dreams a hell of a, of a lot."

"These hands?" Hank asked, pulling his fingertips along Alex's thighs.

His breath caught again, "Y-yes, those, those ones."

"How often did you dream about me?"

"Pretty damn often," Alex admitted.  "Pretty sure almost all of my teen fantasies had something to do with you."

Hank groaned, shoving back up to meet Alex's eyes. "I should have worked a lot harder, shouldn't I have?"

The blond offered him a grin, "Yeah, you really should have."

"Remind me to pay attention next time."

"Better not be a next time."

"Oh, I suppose that's true," Hank said, still braced over Alex.

Alex stretched under him, arching up slightly, "We go back to that and I might just go insane… more insane."

"We are so insane," Hank agreed with a laugh, breath puffing against Alex's ear. "I think that's well established and a precident unlikely to change."

"I think I like this," Alex replied, pulling Hank down again to kiss him languidly.

"I want to try this again," Hank murmured. "I'd like to see if I can make love to you for hours."

"We have to be up tomorrow," Alex protested without sounding like he cared much at all.

"So?" Hank breathed into his ear again.

"So?  I, there, am I supposed to have an argument?"

"You sounded like you might try," Hank shrugged. "If not, I think I'd prefer that."

"No, no argument here."

"Good," Hank purred into his ear and rewarded him by kissing the lobe and dragging his teeth down along Alex's jaw.

x-x-x-x

Alex woke before Hank the next day, glancing over at the other and easing himself carefully out of bed.  Quietly pulling on his clothes from the previous night he slipped out of the room, leaving the door on the latch as he made his way down to the kitchen in Erik's Las Vegas house.  He paused briefly at the bottom of the stairs when he realized how many members of the crew were there before shrugging and going to find coffee.

"You look well shagged," Emma remarked from where she sat at the edge of the table, her legs crossed as she alternated between filing her nails and drinking black coffee. Alex suddenly had Logan's attention from where he had been stealing Scott's eggs.

Alex grinned like the Cheshire cat as he stretched before pouring a cup of hot coffee, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Scott looked up, now that he wasn't fending Logan off with his fork, "Can I say 'about time' or is that the wrong thing to say?"

Angel swept in, looking like she needed a caffeine IV and shook her head, "No, that's entirely the right thing to say.  Move away from the coffeepot before I stab you, Summers." Alex stepped aside willingly, even reaching down a cup for her on his way to the fridge for something to eat.

Several moments later, Hank stepped inside the room and paused as everyone looked at him, Erik just slowly raising one eyebrow. "What?"

"I had been under the impression that they were already with one another," Kurt remarked from where he was perched on the counter when no one answered Hank.

"What makes you think—" Hank started and took a good look at Alex before sitting down next to Emma. "Alright, there's really no way I could say that what you all think happened did not happen, is there?"

"He looks far too well shagged," Emma repeated. "So no. Congratulations for joining the rest of us human beings in a place of self-awareness."

Charles entered the kitchen, looking far more awake than he had any right to.  He looked between Alex and Hank before smiling brightly, "Whatever finally accomplished this?"

"Oh god," Hank said and buried his face in his hands.

Sean spoke from where he'd been silent since Alex first appeared, "No idea, I was pretty sure they were going to murder each other last night."

Hank cleared his throat and just shook his head and Darwin offered Alex a long look that slowly turned into a sly smile. Alex ignored Darwin's look studiously, paying his coffee far more attention than it deserved.

"Anyway," Hank said. "Big days, lots of plans, please get the fuck to it, we are not a zoo exhibit or creatures in the wild whose mating habits you can study." When no one moved he leveled the room with a look learned from Erik. "Shoo."

"You are no fun at all," Angel griped, hands still curled around her coffee mug as she strolled out of the room.

"You can film the nature documentary later," Hank said snidely after her.

"I wouldn't leave that offer on the table," Emma said, shrugging once before dropping to the floor and strolling out, somehow making that look easy in heels.

"I'll hold you to that," Angel called back from the foot of the stairs. Scott chuckled, getting to his feet and heading for the door as well, Sean trailing quickly after him.

"You are not getting a sex tape, ever," Hank grumbled after Angel's retreating back before he pushed himself up and over to the coffee pot. "There had better still be some left."

"Probably a cup's worth," Alex answered, curling his fingers more tightly around his own mug, looking for all the world like a dragon clinging to the last vestiges of its stolen hoard.

"I suppose I could drink that while making the next pot," Hank muttered, looking over at Alex's cup.

Alex shifted just out of reach with his coffee, eying Hank over the edge of the mug and earning a grin from Kurt.  The blond nodded very slightly, "That's what most people do."

"You could share," Hank said, almost purring as he shifted forward.

"Anything but my coffee," Alex agreed, sliding further along the counter.

"How unkind," Hank said, one hand near his hips against the counter.

The blond smirked at him and took another swallow of the drink, "I am not splitting my morning dose of caffeine."

Hank growled and leaned back finally. "If you insist."

Alex finished off the last of his coffee, setting the mug down and brushing a hand through Hank's hair, "I'm going to go make myself presentable, now."

"I suppose the entire world doesn't need to know," Hank agreed, paying attention to where he could see a few marks on Alex's collarbone.

That earned a smirk, "No, not yet anyhow."  With that Alex turned to go, tossing Hank a glance back over his shoulder before heading up to the guest room he was staying in.

Hank watched him go, very still until he was out of sight, before he turned to make the second pot of coffee. From where he was leaning against the sink, Erik watched him.

"I know the whole new love thing," Erik said. "Or in this case discovering sex—"

"You remember I was married right?" Hank asked.

"—But I certainly hope this wouldn't distract you from what the job needs you to do," Erik finished.

"Everyone's suddenly so worried I'll be distracted," Hank muttered, paying attention to the pot.

"Based on your last job, people have cause to be," Charles murmured.  "We're not saying you will be, but there's always a chance."

Hank gave him a narrow look for a long moment. "I’m not sure Alex has put that together yet," he said. "And that was different."

"It was very different, yes.  But distractions happen, they show up unexpectedly.  But we've told you this dozens of times over the last decades," Charles replied.

"I'm not distracted," Hank repeated.

"I never said you were," Charles answered, glancing at Erik briefly before turning back to Hank. Hank glanced between them before walking out of the room to find the nearest coffee stand.

Charles shook his head, watching Hank go, "It would have been so much easier on both of them if they'd just dealt with this years ago."

"That's an easy enough fact to say," Erik said. "And ironic coming from either of us."

"Well, of course it's ironic to come from us, but it doesn't make it less true."

"I never said it did," Erik agreed. "Shouldn't you be back at the hotel?"

"I'm heading back now, yes," Charles sighed, getting to his feet.

"Do you have to leave right this moment?" Erik asked, arching his brows and watching Charles.

Charles checked his watch, a gift from Erik from the previous year, "Perhaps not right this moment, but shortly."

Holding out his hand, Erik arched a brow like he expected Charles to take it. "Shortly is still in a while."

Taking Erik's hand, Charles looked faintly bemused, "It is, yes.  Have I ever told you what lovely houses you have?  Large enough for privacy even with all these people in them."

"You should pay attention to how much room they have," Erik said, like it did not faze him. "And how long you could hide if you felt like it."

"You have three and I have keys to all of them, so the answer is a substantial amount of time," Charles replied simply.

"Good," Erik said. "It took you many years to figure that out. I would have hated for it to fall out of your head so soon."

"It's a matter of remembering, and since it's these lovely open houses or that mausoleum as a retreat?  I think the ones with the large windows and light are going to win this time."

"It took you long enough," Erik breathed, having slunk forward until he could bend his head over Charles'.

Charles tilted his head back to look up at Erik, offering him a quirk of his lips, "But the point is that I learned it."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Erik said.

"Well, let's hope we don't have to test my education for a while yet, hm?"

"I think I would much prefer that," Erik said, his huff of laughter stirring Charles's hair.

Charles smirked, "At least we know it's not a concern right this moment."

"True," Erik agreed. "And I would certainly like to think that it won't be for a while." Nodding briefly, Charles stretched up to kiss Erik languidly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are so very sorry about how long it's been since this updated. Graduate school has once again eaten our lives.


	5. You Slow Down But You Don't Retire

Raven sat down at her usual table, smoothing down the white sheathe dress she wore and straightening the salad fork in her place setting.  Her blond hair was swept up in a French twist with framing locks around her face.  She looked every inch the woman who appeared at Sebastian Shaw's side.  She glanced at the tasteful watch she had taken to wearing instead of the plain black band she had worn for years.  It spoke of wealth and high status from the silver band to the gems denoting the hours on the face.

She heard someone approaching from behind her and half rose and turned to greet Shaw with a smile which fell into flat politeness as she settled back in her chair and turned her attention away from her ex-husband.  She took a sip from her water glass, barely glancing at him again, "How many parts of your parole have you broken so far?"

"How kind," Hank remarked, sliding into the seat across from her. "And after so long, too. Hi, honey, how are you?"

"You're going to have to give up that seat," she said, looking him over.  "Where'd you steal the suit?"

Pulling the glass of water toward him and taking a sip, Hank arched a brow at her from behind it. "I didn't steal it. Besides, I've totally reformed."

"Of course you have. And I suppose Alex is here for your honeymoon," she drawled.  "Though he had someone I don't know with him, adorable redhead.  Maybe their honeymoon then."

Hank choked on the next sip of water. "His father would kill him," he muttered. "If they didn't kill each other first." He paused, setting the glass down and leaning back. "Do you know how many times Alex said we were an incestuous relationship? I don't think we're on a honeymoon." Even if he had spent the previous night figuring out where to scrape his teeth on Alex's throat to get the highest pitched sound out of him.

"I hope you don't like him much anymore, because I'm going to murder him," Raven said with a genial smile as she picked up her water glass again.

"Yes, which is why he only ever flung that accusation at me," Hank said, idle as he looked around at the restaurant.

She leaned back, barely glancing around the restaurant beyond seeing which gossips were there, "So, what's brought you to my table, Hank?"

"A certain sense of nostalgia," he said, turning a fork around his long fingers. "Closure even. Say, how much of this is just to piss off Erik and how much is for the all you can eat expensive food?"

"Twenty-five percent Erik, ten percent food, and sixty-five the money and jewels," she replied easily enough.  "So how big is the job you're running?"

"What if I truly did come here just to see you?" he asked, watching her intently and still twirling the fork.

"I would be very surprised by that," Raven said, finally flagging down a waiter for a glass of wine.

"Ah," he said, a hint of anger seeping into the syllable. "But I'm not the only one who's all business."

She offered him a look that she had learned from Charles, somewhere between disdain and irritation, "And what do you mean by that?"

"Well, you're accusing me of being here on business," Hank said. "I presume because I never go anywhere on anything else. But neither do you. Which means you’re playing a long con and it's only a fringe benefit that you're pissing Erik off."

Her lips quirked up ever so slightly, "That's true. So, I suppose the question is why I shouldn't tip Shaw off to everyone I recognize between now and when you're pulling this job—between now and fight night, I mean.  It would offer the greatest payout I would imagine."

His grin was all teeth, and looked suspiciously like something he had seen Erik do. "Because then I won't have to tell Shaw you've been playing him for what, months? I can guess your angle, you know, it always was art with you. Because Charles and Erik are actually talking again. Because you owe me."

Raven leaned on the table, snarling mutedly, "Don't you dare.  Get me out of here, give me an excuse to leave and neither of us will have a reason to carry out our threats.  I don't want a cut.  I just want out of this damn place."

He arched a brow and set the fork down. "All you actually had to do was ask that nicely."

"Would you have actually done it?" She asked skeptically as she straightened again.

"What? Get you and your art out of here in one piece?" he asked.

Raven nodded once, turning her attention to smoothing her dress out again, "There's a new Picasso that I could give you as payment, if I can get it in time."

"You realize I'm talking about knocking down three casinos in one night, right?" he asked, arching a brow. "Though, god knows I can't turn down a Picasso."

"I am well aware, but I would rather not be indebted to you.  Fuck knows I owe you already," she muttered.  "Who do I need to pretend not to know?"

"Anyone you recognize," Hank said and paused. "Especially Charles. That being said, at least I had an excuse to not visit him."

"You think I wanted to tell him I was bedding Shaw?"  Her eyebrows rose, "I called to tell Erik, but do you think I would _ever_ do that to Charles?  At least I've visited since we left."

"Yeah? And how many years ago was that one time?" Hank asked.

"A few," she answered.  "You've warned him I'm here?"

"Yes," he said. "Believe me that even if I hadn't, Erik made it very clear. I think I could feel the chill across the room."

She bit her lip, "I'm going to have a few bridges to reconstruct, aren't I?"

"A few," he agreed, idle again. "I presume you've seen how Charles is living now?"

"With all the furniture covered and everything exactly how we left it?  Have they figured things out yet?  He's always loved Erik's costal villa and really ought to just stay there," Rave said, thanking the waiter as he departed after filling her wine glass.

"We threatened Erik," Hank said. "Thoroughly. I'm considering burning the mansion down on the way out just so they can't turn back."

"Charles would have a fit.  I don't know why he doesn't just tear the whole thing down."

Hank hummed. "Though, it's so historical now. Maybe we could turn it into a school and let the children destroy it."

"He tried that."  She considered, "Maybe he just didn't have enough kids."

"We weren't very active at destroying things," Hank said. "And certainly not that type of school."

Raven chuckled, "Do you think you could teach a different sort?  Wasn't that one of the first things they told us, you don't retire, you slow down but you don't retire?"

"You think _I_ would be teaching the children?" he said and shook his head. "Fuck no. We hire people to do that, to keep Charles away too."

That garnered a true laugh from Raven, her eyes lighting up, "I want to see this, now.  It's a fantastic idea, really.  Destroy that house usefully.  I mean, another option is to just gut the thing and start the interior completely over.  Leave the historic exterior as it is."

"He would end up moping soon enough, even if he got to redesign the place," Hank said.

"Oh, I didn't mean to let Charles anywhere near it.  I meant that you could have that done, don't let him know until it's finished," she thought for a moment.  "Do you think he'd let you have the place before he died?"

"I rather doubt it," Hank admitted. "Though when did we all decide he would give it to me?"

"Are you kidding?  You think he'd leave it to Alex or me?"

"Well," he started and stopped. "Alright, perhaps I see your point. At any rate, he and Erik are currently talking so I am holding out hopes for the coastal villa."

"Erik has three goddamn houses, Charles should really just stay in one of the others when they fight," she shook her head, glancing over her shoulder toward the door.

"But it's still his," Hank pointed out. "Whether he's there or not. I think they should just buy a mutual sulking cottage somewhere but keep it small so they're not inclined to mope for years."

"Very small.  Perhaps a mutual sulking studio apartment," Raven said, pausing before meeting Hank's eyes again.  "I'm sorry for when we ended.  I knew better than to do that to you."

Hank went from relaxed by alert to frozen stiff, the line of his shoulders straight from where he had been slouched over. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," she said, watching his eyes and paying attention to the way his shoulders moved in her peripheral vision.  "I should have waited a day, perhaps two."

"You mean to deliver the divorce papers _after_ the job?" he asked, voice casual though his posture was not.

"You know exactly what I mean," came the response, her tone steady and her fingers curling around the stem of her wine glass.

He hummed in response. "It was a rather inelegant subject change."

"When was the last time I offered an elegant subject change?  And is there a way to elegantly turn the subject to apologizing for serving you divorce papers that ended with you in prison?"

"Well," he said after a beat. "I am ruining your long term con."

"It's only fair you do so," she agreed.  "And we'll add in the Picasso.  I think there might be a Rembrandt as well if you want that."

He blinked. "You really are feeling quite sorry, aren't you?"

"I cost you four years of your life because I couldn't wait until you left to drop the papers on the table and pack my bags," she replied, withdrawing her compact mirror and checking over her make-up while using it to watch the door behind her, ready to change the conversation at a moment's notice.  "If I was more contrite I'd offer you the Monets, but I'm not quite there."

"Well, we won't ask for miracles then," he said finally. "Did you miss me?"

She offered him an upturn of her lips and her expression softened ever so slightly as she nodded, "I did.  It...I'll admit it took me a while, but I did."

"Well I guess I'm glad of that in the long run then."

"So, Alex is taunting you about our marriage again?  Have you figured him out yet?"  She sounded vaguely amused.

Hank blinked at her. "He made a few snide comments. He's not anymore."

"He and Darwin broke it off shortly before I started on this, unless they've picked up again?" She said, watching her ex-husband closely.

"They have certainly not," Hank said. "Darwin never got angry at him."

Raven blinked twice before laughing, "God, and I thought we were fucked in the head."

"No, we look downright normal," Hank said and finally smiled again.

Her smile turned almost sly at that, "And how do the two of you look?"

"We're probably going to kill each other," Hank said after a beat. "On the other hand the sex is fantastic."

"It's probably out of line for me to threaten him if he hurts you, isn't it?  Hypocritical and all that."

"It would be unorthodox," Hank agreed.

She snorted, "Not to mention how little ground he would think I have to stand on.  I'm already going to have enough trouble dealing with Erik....even with Charles as a buffer."

"And that's only if he feels like being one," Hank said, humming again. "Which all things considered he might not."

"I trust him to be a little more willing to hear me out than Erik will be," Raven said.  "Not much, but enough to at least acknowledge me, hopefully."

"Oh, Erik will acknowledge you," Hank said and he was smiling. "Probably as he picks you up to pitch out a window."

"And this is why you're not getting any of the French artists," Raven said, casting a glance at her mirror seconds before she said that. "There's a Degas I wanted to keep for myself, but it's something I know Charles would love.  I am no further above bribery than he is."

"Do you think we could have grown up normal without them?" Hank asked after a beat.

Raven considered that for a long moment, "Maybe, but I don't know.  I don't think I would have.  You remember how they found me, right?  I think this is the closest to normal I ever would have gotten."

"This is pretty fucking far from normal," Hank remarked, chin on his palm.

"And what," an oddly affable voice asked from behind him. "Are you doing in my normal chair?"

"Mr. Shaw," Hank said, grinning but not turning around for a moment. "How lovely to finally meet you."

"Is it?" he asked, brow arched.

Raven looked up, offering Shaw a smile, "Sebastian.  He was just leaving, actually."  She managed to shift her smile so it looked forced as she looked at Hank, "After all, I have no reason to speak to my ex-husband, do I, Henry?"

Hank winced at her. "That wasn't necessary," he muttered.

Her eyebrows rose at that, "I sent you the divorce papers, you signed them.  That was the end of our interactions."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he said as he rose and smiled as charmingly as he could back at Shaw, who stood perfectly relaxed in his own dominion but watching the interloper. "Well. It was nice to meet you."

Raven inclined her head to Hank, indicating that she did know where she had overstepped with his name, "Good night."

"And what," Shaw asked, watching Hank's retreating back as he sat. "Was that about?"

"He saw me as I was entering the restaurant apparently and came over to speak to me," she answered with a shrug.

"But why is your ex-husband here to begin with?"

"I don't know.  I couldn't keep track of him when we were married, and I haven't spoken to him in years now."

"Why ever did you  marry him then?" Shaw asked, lifting the glass of wine that had been placed promptly at his elbow. "He's not much to look at."

She shrugged again, sipping at her own wine, "I was young and stupid."

"Things one would hope you no longer are," he said with a smile.

Her lips curled upward to match his expression, "Well, I wouldn't mind being young.  But stupidity I like to think has been left far behind."

"Indeed," he said, sounding like he was humoring her.

She carefully ignored his tone, "You were late tonight.  Trouble on the floor?"

He waved a hand. "Only some minor confusion. It will resolve to be nothing."

"Of course."  She paused for a moment, "The museum was rather popular today.  The new Picasso is apparently quite the draw."

"People like to stare and pretend they can understand the things completely outside of their scope," Shaw said, with a tiny little smile.

"It makes them feel intelligent," Raven agreed simply.

"Funny, considering where they are," Shaw laughed, shaking his head slightly.

"I've noticed that they seem willing to risk more if they think themselves intelligent enough to understand the surrealists," Raven said, offering him a hint of a smile.  "After all, if they're that smart, they couldn't possibly make a bad bet."

"And this," he said, tapping the side of his glass, "is why your idea for the art museum was so good and why I've allowed it."

She lifted her own glass to him ever so slightly, "And I'm very grateful for that."

o-o-o

The rivalry between Erik and Sebastian Shaw certainly hadn't started when Shaw bought out one of Erik's earliest casinos with the sole intent to demolish it. But that was the latest wound and Erik forced his mouth to twist up into a cold smile as the cameras focused on him.

"She had a good run, but it's time for something new," Shaw said, as he held his hand out. Erik quickly ran through his options for murdering the other man on public television and getting away with it. By the time he took Shaw's hand and shook it, he decided he could have. But seeing his face when the entirety of his vault was stolen made it worthwhile to keep him alive.

"Just because something's old, doesn't mean it's worthless," he said instead, smile full of sharp teeth and Shaw laughed. From the flashing cameras, they might have looked friendly.

"Perhaps," Shaw said, and they finally dropped each other's hands. "But progress requires... shedding old skin."

Erik almost changed his mind about trying to murder him while being filmed. Instead they pointedly turned away from each other now they had their moment of publicity. He stayed only long enough to watch the building he had spent so long building and running collapse before turning to leave. He stopped with a frown when the power all around him flickered and went out. "Damn," he said, to the sky.

Charles was waiting when Erik returned to the house and he approached, having given up on the lights a short time before, "I would offer you some of your coffee or some tea, but the lack of electricity makes that problematic."

"Yes, that would," Erik said, viciously throwing his keys on the table, watching them skid away.

"Come sit down, Erik," Charles said, reaching for him.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the hotel schmoozing?" Erik asked but followed Charles anyway.

"I've been doing that.  I thought I would take a couple of hours and meet you when you got home from that mess," he replied, pulling Erik down onto a couch and curling up next to him.

Erik kicked his feet out in front of him, hand wrapping around Charles' waist and leaning his head against the back of the couch. "Alright. I can't complain about that."

Charles hummed slightly at that, his fingers tracing absently around the buttons on Erik's shirtfront, "So, how many forms of murder did you determine you could get away with on live television?"

A harsh laugh burst out of Erik's chest. "Three. More if I had planned for it in advance."

"Bastard," Charles murmured.  "That casino was a beauty, and a landmark at this point."

"Landmarks are for other cities," Erik said with a shrug. "I've had my life's work blow up before," and he tried not to stare at Charles as he said it.

Charles grimaced at that, "Which does in no way justify having it done again."

"No," he agreed, rubbing his thumb along Charles' hipbone through his pants. "But I can't say I'm not used to it. It won't knock me down."

Shifting at that touch, Charles sighed very softly, "I don't expect it to. It would take more than that to knock you down, as you say."  He tipped his head up to look at the other man, still resting against Erik's side, "And even if it was, it's not enough to keep you there."

"I'm not getting any younger though," Erik remarked, seemingly into space. "Eventually it might be harder to get back up."

"That's what you have me for," Charles replied, quietly.  "To help you up when it gets too much."

"Because you'll always be here I presume?" Erik asked with a harsh twist of his mouth.

Charles didn't even flinch as he looked back at Erik, "That is the intention of us actually trying to make a long-term go of it, isn't it?"

"Yes," Erik said. "But you'll have to excuse me still being wary."

"Of course I'll excuse some wariness, but I'd like a little bit of faith in the possibility of it actually working," came the response.

"If I didn't have faith," Erik said, leaning closer so their noses were almost touching. "I wouldn't have let you back in my house. I'm too _old_."

"You're not that much older than I am," Charles muttered.  "And I don't know that it's too old for either of us."  He brushed a hand over Erik's hair, "Besides, the grey suits you."

"You know what I mean," Erik said. "I'm too old to keep playing games with you."

"We were too old for that when we _met_ ," Charles said, shaking his head.  "But I do know what you mean."

"Good," he said with a nod and lifted one of Charles' hands, entwining their fingers, his eyes intent on their hands. "Fuck you, also, for calling my casino a historical landmark. Speaking of making me feel old..."

Charles laughed quietly, "I didn't say historical."

"It was there, hovering all over the sentence if technically unsaid," Erik replied, smiling.

"Do you think you can ever forgive me for implying that you created what could have been an historic marker?" Charles asked, his lips curled upward in amusement.

"You might have to convince me," he said after a beat.

Charles' eyebrow rose at that even as he curled closer to Erik, his lips hovering a breath away from his partner's, "And however will I go about doing that?"  Before Erik could answer he leaned in and captured the other man’s lips, intending to take his time demonstrating just how contrite he could be.

o-o-o

Alex stood in front of their replica of the vault, his arms crossed over his chest as he considered the tableau before him.  It was identical to the Bellagio vault, right down to the type of tile used on the floor.  Half the city had blacked out when the demolition of Erik's old casino had happened earlier that day and Darwin hadn't been heard from since.  Alex had been carefully avoiding Erik, knowing the mood he had been in about the casino demolition but uncertain what his response would be to taking out half the power grid with it.  He shook his head slightly as one of the cash carts in the middle of the replica vault opened and Kurt untwisted himself from the contortion it had taken for him to fit inside.

The acrobat stretched out his back as he considered the distances to the shelves near the wall.  He glanced at Alex who shrugged, "Floor sensors mean you're going to have to figure it out from there." Kurt nodded once, sizing up the distance to the door and routes to it.

The door behind them slammed open, and Darwin stalked inside, furious and with what looked like sewer water on one shoulder of his coat. "Fucking bastards."

"See, he gets angry," Hank said mildly, glancing sideways at Alex with a tiny smirk and Darwin opted to ignore him completely.

"You know what I meant," Alex muttered, turning away from where Kurt flipped to the shelves and then off of them to land outside the replica vault in order to find out what was going on. "Who’s fucked up now, Darwin?"

"The city!" he yelled. "That's what's so frustrating!"

Alex blinked at him twice, "Okay, you've lost me.  Explain?  How did the city fuck up?"

Darwin started rattling off an explanation. "No, stop," Hank said. "Even I only understood every fourth word."

"Basically? They did _exactly_ what I was planning to do! But early so now they know about the weakness! They're already working to _fix it_!" He kicked some of the leftover building material and didn't wince.

Alex swore, raking a hand through his hair, "There's gotta be a way around it."

"Fight Night's tomorrow, though," Sean said from where he'd been listening in.

Hank didn't bother to swear, he just sat down and pulled out a sharpie, starting to scribble on a leftover board of wood, hunched down slightly to reach it where it was leaning against the wall.

Looking toward Hank, Alex gritted his teeth and drew a deep breath, "There's a couple diversions we could try to make work."

"In less than twenty-four hours?" Sean asked, earning him a dark glance from the blond.

"We could try a pinch," Hank said, frowning at his calculations.

"Uh, yeah, we could," Darwin said. "Big enough to knock out the entire city of Las Vegas?" He paused. "It would only have to be ten seconds, right?"

Hank nodded, capping the sharpie. "Can you do it?"

"There's probably one big enough," he admitted after a beat.

"A pinch?"  Alex frowned, "Where are you going to find one big enough that we can get here _tomorrow_?"

"Pasadena," Darwin said after a beat with a scowl.

"Thank god we're near California," Hank remarked brightly.

"Of course," Alex muttered.

"Wait, what's a pinch?"  Sean asked, glancing between the three of them.

"Giant EMP," Alex answered before looking around the warehouse.  "Okay, you three, the brothers, and Kurt? Should be able to get in and out quickly.  I'm going to see about checking in with Angel and Emma while you guys get the pinch, yeah?"

"Sure, lover boy," Darwin said, shaking his head as he walked with Sean to the door. "I can never tell if I love or hate EMPs," he told the younger man. "On one hand, I like tech. On the other, reducing an entire city to the last century seems appealing on a chaotic level."

Alex watched them go before looking at Hank, "We sure the pinch'll be enough to do it?"

"I trust Darwin," he said, not missing a beat. "If he says it can be done, it'll be done. It's why we got this team, isn't it? We trust them completely. Well," he paused a beat. "Completely to do their jobs. Not in other things."

That earned a wry chuckle, "Yeah, let's not trust them in much else.  Be careful.  Wouldn't do to get caught the night before."

Hank pulled a face. "Ugh. Don't even joke about that. Come on, you're supposed to give your lover a kiss for luck."

"I wasn't joking," Alex answered before catching hold of Hank's lapels and dragging him in for a harsh kiss.

Hank allowed that for a moment, their teeth clinking before he brought his hands up to cup Alex's cheeks, slowing the kiss and deepening it. Alex hummed at that, leaning against Hank and letting his fingers tangle in the other's dark hair. Licking along the roof of Alex's mouth, Hank finally pulled back, smile at the corners of his mouth. "There. That should be enough luck."

Alex's lips quirked up at that, "Sure as hell better be.  Get back so we can...rest up for tomorrow."

"We do actually have to rest," Hank laughed. "Big day and all that." He paused before leaning in for another kiss, quicker before pulling back and walking for the door. Alex watched him go, waiting until they had pulled out with the van before going to meet up with Angel and then with Emma to confirm they were entirely on track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we finally meet Shaw.


	6. Craziest Pessimist I've Ever Met

Angel entered the room where Emma was working, dropping onto the couch and letting her head fall back against the backrest, "My feet are killing me. Remind me why I'm doing this again?"

"For the money," Emma said and paused. "I was going to add and the glory but I think the point is to not get caught."

"Money. Yes, that's right. And for the sake of screwing Shaw over. There’s also that. But mostly the money," Angel sighed, kicking her shoes off and curling her feet under her.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend," Emma said, tone bordering on sarcastic.

Angel snorted at that, "Ice is nice but I'll stick with gold."

"How tyrannical of you," Emma said. "Gold is for old empires and misers."

"Yeah, but the value stays pretty solid," Angel said with a shrug. "And it looks good with my complexion."

Emma laughed. "But imagine diamonds in your hair. They'd sparkle so much—you could even set them in gold if you like."

Angel grinned at that, "Okay, good point. I am beginning to see the merits of diamonds."

"A net," Emma said, finally looking away from the screens in front of her and holding out her hands. "With golden thread and filled with diamonds. You could probably buy one if we pull this job off."

"And then the trick is finding somewhere to wear it, but it would be nice to have," Angel said, brushing her hair back behind her shoulders.

"Dinner parties," Emma smirked, turning back and frowning slightly before hitting a few buttons. "Diamonds wouldn't look nearly as good in my hair."

"Sapphires and silver," Angel suggested. "Highlight your eyes and still a cold color and metal."

Emma chuckled. "So we'll go to those dinner parties together then?"

"Can you honestly see me going to dinner parties _without_ you there to snark with?"

"Oh, heaven forbid," Emma shook her head. "You must take a snark partner to every dinner party."

"They're so dull otherwise. No matter how nice the jewels are."

"We could stand there and compare them."

Alex stopped where he had just stepped inside, "Okay, I came in on the wrong part of this conversation."

Angel offered him a grin, "You don't want to help us compare them, Alex?"

"What are we comparing?" He asked, sounding wary.

"Jewels," Angel answered, shrugging one shoulder.

"Yeah I got that bit."

"Did you?" Emma purred. "You seemed to think we were talking about something else."

"I don't want to know what you were talking about, but it sounded risqué," Alex answered, finally crossing the room to join them.

Angel's lips curled into a teasing smile, "Aw, and here I thought those were the best conversations. And the ones you'd want to be in on."

"Hank would kill me."

"Pretty sure he wouldn't mind talk," Emma said. "No, that's not true. He wouldn't mind joking and risqué conversation. What he would mind would be outright flirting. Would you like to compare jewels too?"

"What is wrong with you?" Alex asked, rocking back on his heels before finally sitting down.

"So we like jewels, sue us," Angel said, watching as color rose to Alex's cheeks. "You act like you don't, but your track record indicates otherwise."

"Rubies would work on him,” Emma said.

"In platinum I think. Oh, or rose gold," Angel suggested.

Alex blinked rapidly, "Okay, can we back up and let me in on the context?"

Emma ignored his request, "Oh, rose gold for sure, he's very warm, with the blond hair and tanned skin. What about Hank? I mean, sapphires for sure but blue topaz maybe?"

"Oh I think blue topaz," Angel said with a firm nod. "I think rhodium would be good."

Alex sighed, letting his head fall back, "Why are we talking about this?"

"Because Emma and I happen to like the topic," Angel answered easily.

"It's shallow but just think about the sparkly things and how they suit people,” Emma said.

Alex looked between them, still confused, "But, why?"

"Because when we pull this off, I'm buying myself a gold net with diamonds to wear to dinner parties," Angel said, grinning at Alex. "And it's amusing to watch how confused you get."

"Your horror is really the best," Emma agreed.

"Thanks," he said, sarcasm dripping from the syllable. "How are things looking on your ends?"

"We're planning the gems we're buying with our cut, how do you think?" Angel asked.

"It's going," Emma frowned back at the screens. "Well, wait," she clicked a few more keys and relaxed. "Our cuts will be amazing."

"Yeah, about that," Alex hedged.

Angel's eyes darted from where she'd been watching Emma to zone in on Alex, "What is it, Summers?"

"It's handled. But about half of the crew is going to Pasadena to get a pinch tonight."

Emma stared at him. "Why?"

"Because of the blackout earlier." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Apparently the City blew the grid accidentally the same way Darwin was planning to. They're fixing the problem as we speak."

"Bastards," Emma muttered.

Alex groaned, rubbing his eyes, "Tell me about it. We were supposed to be doing quick run-throughs tonight, and instead half of us are in California."

"Are we still doing the run-through?" Emma asked, still splitting her attention between the screens and the conversation.

"We'll see what time they get back," Alex said. "You two know what you need to do, and said you're good to go, so I'm not too worried here. I'm just still jumpy about the part _in_ the vault."

"Which is of course the people who just left," Emma smiled. "What about driver boys?"

"Also on the run to California. Both of them. I thought they'd be more use there." Alex groaned, "This was not a good idea."

"They will probably blow California up," Emma said with a small nod.

Alex sighed, looking between the two women, "Either of you heard from Charles or Erik?"

Angel's brow arched, "Are you kidding?"

"I think they're still holed up on a couch," Emma said.

Alex rubbed his eyes, "Charles is supposed to be back at the casino."

"And Erik's own casino was just demolished. They're still on a couch," Angel replied.

"Charles will be in place when he needs to be," Emma said, voice certain.

"I know he will. I'm just worrying about them."

"They're grown-ass men," Angel pointed out.

Emma however leaned over and patted his shoulder. "There, there. They're basically your parents, of course children worry."

He eyed her hand as though it was a venomous serpent before shaking his head, "I'm just waiting for them to fall apart again—they only just got back together."

"I thought the point was this time that they weren't going to," Emma said.

"Until I see that actually be true I won't believe it," Alex said.

"Have some faith," Emma said, tone serious even though she looked like she had anything but.

Alex's lips quirked at that, "Check back with me about that in a year."

"That is not the definition of faith," Emma protested. "Just like I have faith our team in California will not blow anything up and will come back with news that the job went smoothly."

o-o-o

"I will never have faith again," Emma said, arms crossed over her chest as dawn appeared over the horizon and the van the others had taken to California limped into the parking lot, half of one of the passenger doors missing.

Angel's eyebrows had made a break for her hairline, and she shook her head, "Nope. Never."

Alex strode toward the van, hands spread and mouth open as they parked, "What the hell did you do? We had plans for this van that didn't involve it being _blown up_! You were getting a _pinch_ not an actual bomb!"

"We crashed," Logan said, leaning out the driver's window with a cigar clamped between his teeth. "Just a little. We'll get a new van."

"You crashed." Alex's tone was flat and his expression unimpressed as the other doors opened and the rest of the team got out, Kurt cradling his left hand. Alex paled, "You crashed. And you broke our grease man."

"It is not that bad," Kurt protested. "A bruise, a bit stiff, a little numbness. I will be fine. I have performed with worse."

"You haven't performed in this sort of a situation with worse," Hank said, compulsively trying to readjust his hair again.

"Then I will sleep for a couple of hours with ice on it and then run-through the jump on the model," Kurt said simply, carefully trying to flex his fingers again.

Alex pursed his lips, striding over to Hank and brushing his hair down, "What _happened_?"

"We got the pinch," Darwin said, sliding out. "And I am severely reappraising calling you people intelligent."

"That still doesn't tell me how the hell this went wrong," Alex protested. Scott stepped out of the front of the van where he'd been riding shotgun, "We got what we went for. It's not so bad."

"The van is missing half a door, Scott," Alex snapped.

Angel sighed, moving over, "Where's Sean?"

The redhead emerged, slinking out of the van, "Here."

"See? Everyone's back and mostly in one piece," Hank finally said. "We'll be, um, fine."

Alex's eyes narrowed but he raked a hand through his blond hair, causing it to stand on end, and nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, of course we will. Everyone needs sleep, or something. Big night tonight."

"We need to do a vault run-through!" Hank yelled as they started muttering and trailing back into the mansion. "Before. But sleep now."

He got a few nods to acknowledge that he was heard as the team went their own way, Kurt still flexing his hand carefully. Alex's fingers wrapped around Hank's wrist, "I need sleep, and food, and then to see the run-through go off perfectly."

"No sex?" Hank asked after a beat. "I think you're missing sex off that list."

Alex looked at him, blinking twice, "That could be fit in there. But I have been up all night waiting for you to get back and you apparently were in an accident that managed to lose a half a van door."

"Which only makes that need feel all the more pressing," Hank said, pulling on Alex's arm. "Food first though."

"Food first," Alex agreed. He paused, "You know I don't think I've eaten since you left."

"That was rather foolish of you," Hank said with a faint upturn of his mouth. "Come along then, let's feed and bed you."

Alex finally relaxed enough to grin, "Emma thinks you should wear blue topaz, by the way."

"What?" Hank blinked, looking back at him. "Why? When did this come up? _How_ did this come up?"

"See what you miss out on when you go off to California? Emma and Angel were talking about jewels, took a while to get around to the fact that they meant gemstones, but it was what I walked in on when I went to talk to them. Something about your eyes and complexion. Angel thinks rhodium for a metal."

"And for you?" Hank asked, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Rubies and rose gold," Alex answered with a grin as they entered the kitchen.

"You would be gorgeous," Hank said. "Not that you aren't already, but," he shrugged.

"I prefer not to wear my money that obviously," Alex said with a shrug.

"Just a few," Hank said, turning to him and running his hands over his hair, brushing the shells of his ears and stopping there. "Like as an earring. Small. Subtle. But rich."

Alex leaned into the touch, trying not to react audibly to it. He spoke without thinking, "Rings?"

Hank blinked. "If you like," he said finally.

Alex paled very slightly, "I did not mean to actually say that out loud."

"It is rather something more of a commitment," Hank said softly.

"It's a bit early to even think about those," Alex murmured.

"It is and it isn't," Hank murmured. "We've had our whole lives together, Alex. But not... not quite like this, huh?"

"Not like this," Alex agreed. He paused and then stepped away from Hank, "We were looking for food, right?"

"Yes," Hank said, clearing his throat. "I think I could eat an entire cow by myself."

"Fresh out of whole cows," Alex said, opening the fridge and digging through for food.

"Whatever will I do?" Hank asked, heading for the pantry himself.

Alex pulled out a wide variety of food, practically anything that wasn't specifically labeled by people being possessive over food that he thought could be made into a quick meal, "Any thoughts on what you want that we do have?"

"A relationship?" Hank offered and blinked. "Oh. Um. No."

"You sure you don't want sleep before sex?" Alex asked, glancing over his shoulder at Hank as he finally decided that sub sandwiches wouldn't take any more concentration than he currently possessed and set about putting a couple of those together.

"Quite," Hank said. "Sleep is better after sex anyway."

That earned a grin, "Okay, that's true. Find anything in the pantry?"

Hank tossed some Twinkies out toward the counter. "Sorry, did you want a healthier answer?"

"Not really. Anything in there besides Twinkies?" Alex asked, eyeing the sponge cakes.

"Those are for me," Hank said, voice edging toward a glare at Alex's look. "Though I could be convinced to share. There's rolls, as you seem to be going the sandwich route."

"They're all yours," Alex assured him. "Rolls would be good though." Leaning back into the pantry, Hank tossed them over at Alex. Catching the rolls, Alex finished with the sandwiches, putting everything away before offering one to Hank.

"Old habits of propriety and cleanliness die hard, hm?" Hank hummed, accepting it.

"Do you want Erik waking us up because the kitchen's a mess?"

Hank laughed, a sound that started deep in his belly. "No."

Alex offered him a grin at that, taking a bite of his sandwich, "And that's why I clean the kitchen."

"So out of curiosity," Hank said after a beat. "How many times did he wake you up as a teenager?"

Alex groaned, setting his sandwich aside just long enough to hop up on the counter, "Way too much. I think he resented me sleeping. Couldn't wait until I was actually up."

"Considering he wakes up with the dawn most mornings?" Hank grinned.

"Which means that if we don't want to run into him now we probably should leave the kitchen," Alex said, looking out the window to where the sun was over the horizon, the sky having lost the dawn glow and heading toward the hot glare common in the desert.

"Valid point," Hank said, heading for the door, shoving what remained of the sandwich into his mouth with one bite.

Alex finished his sandwich as he hopped back down off the counter, nearly stepping on Hank's heels as he followed him out, "Your room or mine?"

"Either," Hank said, rolling his shoulders and stretching. "Um, yours might actually be cleaner. I feel like I've gone in the twilight zone just to say those words."

Alex laughed, "Mine it is then." He caught Hank by the wrist, leaning up to kiss him briefly before pulling him up the stairs.

Hank followed willingly, grinning. "Oh, are you taking control?"

Alex grinned at him, "Yeah, I think so. I'm not the one who lost half a van door last night, after all."

Hank stopped on the stairs, pulling Alex toward him until he was only a few steps above him, putting them on equal eye level for once. Humming, he slid his hands behind Alex's head and kissed him, long and slow. Alex's fingers tangled in Hank's shirtfront and his lips parted under Hank's. Leaning into the kiss and nearly off-balancing because of where they were standing, Alex tried to suppress the sound of pure want that rose in his throat.

Hank grinned as he pulled back. "Up," he said, voice low.

Alex swallowed, pupils blown wide as he tried to pull the threads of his mind back together enough to nod, "I, yeah, yeah good idea." He nearly tripped over the next stair on his way up. Hank steadied him with hands on his waist before shoving slightly. Alex finally managed the get up the stairs, pulling Hank in for another kiss on the way down the hall to his room.

o-o-o

Kurt stood in the hall bathroom where the light was good, the door ajar as he checked over the bruise that ran across both the front and back of his hand. He flexed his fingers, muttering a curse in German as it sent pain lancing up past his elbow. He knew he could make the jump needed, but he was uncertain of his ability to land it with his hand the way it was. It wasn't broken, as far as he could tell, but it was much worse than most sprains he had before.

"That's not a good I'm-in-prime-job-condition sound," Logan remarked, leaning against the wall outside the bathroom. "You almost done in there or not?"

Kurt stepped out a moment later, "My apologies, I am finished. There is not much I can do for it right now."

"You don't have to be finished," Logan said. "I just wanted an ETA on it."

"I could spend most of the day checking over the damage in that light and it would not change anything," Kurt said in response, lifting his left hand in explanation, the dark bruise standing out starkly against his skin. Logan reached forward, taking that as an invitation to pull the other closer to inspect the bruise. The acrobat hissed at the touch, but grit his teeth, careful to keep his fingers still rather than risk shooting pains up his arm again, "It is not good, but I will be able to do what I must tonight."

"Really?" Logan arched his brows. "You know, pushing yourself and failing isn't gonna help anyone here."

"I will need ice. And then it will need a brace for my palm," Kurt said. "I can make the jump, as long as I can balance with it I will be fine."

"Uh huh," Logan hummed, holding Kurt's hand up higher to squint at the darkened skin.

Kurt grit his teeth, but kept from pulling away, "You think I don’t know my limits?"

"I think you might be willing to push them with what's riding on this job," Logan said.

"I will run through it in a few hours," Kurt said, quietly. "If I cannot do it, it will be clear then."

"Good," Logan said and finally let go. "Because you're sortta an unknown."

Kurt immediately drew his hand back to cradle it against his chest, "You all have worked together before." He had intended it to be more of a question than it was.

"Yeah," Logan said. "Over the years, some job or another."

"I have not done something like this before. But acrobatics I know, and that is what I am supposed to do."

"With really shitty consequences if you fail," Logan pointed out.

"Thank you for reminding me. It is not as though I haven't been thinking that since they first found me," Kurt said.

"Oh, sarcasm. Glad you have it in you," Logan smirked.

That earned a grin, "I have not had much occasion to use it since I joined you all."

"You should practice it more often," Logan said. "Makes you more approachable."

"Oh I use it quite often when I am home," Kurt replied, shrugging slightly.

"Yeah, but use it around us more and it makes you stand out less like a sore thumb."

Kurt laughed lightly at that, "I shall keep that in mind."

"Good, because right now you're the new guy out. Sean's new guy in. You want to be new guy in too," Logan said, smirking as he leaned against the wall. "We're not even that hard to get along with."

"No, you are all very easy to get along with," Kurt agreed with a grin. "Easier than the clowns ever were at least."

"Oh, well, if we're easier than the clowns were," Logan laughed. "Actually, we'd make the best clown act. McCoy could be ring master."

Kurt laughed, "A stand-up act would be better suited than clowns."

"Only because you haven't watched my brother and I for too long."

"No, I confess I have not watched you and your brother for very long," Kurt agreed.

"We could be clowns for sure," Logan said. "If you know, you gave us something to drive around in circles and hit each other with."

Kurt laughed, "I'm sure that could be arranged."

"Well, it's good to have options," Logan said, moving back and away.

Kurt offered him another grin and a nod, "Well, I am going to see about some rest before tonight."

"Sleep well," Logan said, only half teasing. "But, if there is something you need, you can ask anyone."

"Danke," Kurt said, accompanying it with a smile. "I shall do that."

o-o-o

Charles was laying on his stomach, fully clothed in his preferred garments—a pair of casual slacks and a dress shirt with a sweater over the top—on the bed in his suite at the Bellagio. He was eying the Armani suit he was to wear that night with distaste, "I'm not putting another one of those on for more than a year after this is finished. I hope you recognize that fact." His blue eyes flickered away to Erik before he pushed himself into a sitting position and finally rose from the bed.

"Really?" Erik asked, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the wall. "You think not?"

"I truly dislike them," Charles wrinkled his nose as he ran a hand over the fine fabric. "They're amazing suits but I always feel like a marionette in them. Waiting for someone to pull the right strings so that I perform appropriately."

"But then all you have to do is think about how much fun they are to take off," Erik said with a slow smile.

Charles replied with a matching smile, "Oh, but I much prefer to take yours off than ever have mine on."

"Yes," Erik agreed. "But sometimes you have to share that pleasure."

That earned a vaguely put-upon sigh, though the light in Charles' eyes indicated that he was exaggerating even that bit, "Well, I suppose so. Really the fabric is an amazing quality. The way it slips against the skin, you know?"

"Yes," Erik repeated, grin becoming even more predatory. "That is why we pay for the best of everything, Charles."

“Ah, but why pay for it when it's standing right in front of me?" Charles asked, taking a couple of steps closer to Erik.

"Armani suits don't grow on you," Erik said, not quite laughing.

"Alright, so that wasn't one of my better lines," Charles admitted, stopping a handbreadth from Erik.

"No, it was in fact one of your worst," Erik shook his head before drawing Charles closer to him again. "Now please wear the suit."

Charles laughed, "I'll wear the suit, Erik. I'm hardly going to be seen in anything less than that _tonight_."

"Good," he smiled, stroking Charles' hair back. "Then get dressed."

Leaning into the touch briefly, rather like a contented cat, Charles finally drew away and crossed to the suit, pulling off his cardigan as he did so, "Oh, very well."

"I could always undress you now," Erik said, catching the back of his shirt.

Charles tipped his head back to look at Erik, "I feel like that would make it rather difficult for me to be convinced into that suit."

"Well, I can help you in to it later," Erik said.

"No," Hank said, appearing at the door. "No, no, no. We have a schedule people.”

"Must you take all the fun out of this?" Charles asked Hank, reproachfully. "Really, what other incentive is there?"

"Lots and lots of money," Alex reminded from behind Hank. "Just get in the suit, Charles. You're due downstairs soon."

"And when we say lots of money? We mean so much money so chop chop," Hank said, clapping his hands.

Charles waved a hand at them, "Yes, yes I've done the math. Now _privacy,_ gentlemen."

Alex rolled his eyes but nodded and headed back to the sitting room of the suite, "Quickly, Charles."

"We'll be watching you," Hank warned before retreating as well.

Charles shook his head, "How on earth did we raise those two?"

"Some days I have no idea and I’m actually proud of that," Erik said, staring at the doorway for a long moment before turning back to Charles.

"Some days, yes," Charles agreed, already halfway out of his shirt. "Come help me get changed, love."

Out in the sitting room, Alex cast a glance back toward the bedroom door, "Even money on having to remind them of the time table again."

Hank simply laughed, throwing himself back on the couch and spreading his arms out. Alex huffed out a breath, dropping onto the couch next to Hank and stretching out with his head in Hank's lap almost automatically, "And we have the pinch. And Kurt managed to get through the run-throughs without trouble."

"We'll be fine," Hank said as Emma slammed the door open, storming in on her white heels.

"We have a problem."

"We have a problem?" Hank sighed.

Alex lifted his head at that, "How can we have a problem? We are right up to the last minute here."

"McCoy got himself flagged," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Alex's eyes widened and he looked at Hank, "What? How?"

Sean spoke from where he'd been perched at the legitimate bar that the suite possessed, "My guess is because he ran into Shaw when he was talking to Shaw's current girlfriend."

"Being of course my ex-wife," Hank added, staring at the ceiling. "Damnit."

Alex clenched his jaw, counting back from ten and forcing himself to relax, "You're not going to be able to work this one, Hank."

"Excuse you?" Hank asked, looking down at him.

"You're red flagged. You can't go on the casino floor. Which means you can't get to the security door or through it. You're not going to be able to do the vault," Alex said, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I'll figure it out," Hank protested again.

"We can't risk it," Alex responded. "There's too much riding on it, and there is no guarantee that you won't be off the casino property by the time we need you to be entering the vault."

Hank scowled, an ugly expression. "And what do you expect us to do then?"

Alex scrubbed at his face before levering himself up to a fully seated position, "Sean'll have to do it."

The pickpocket's eyes widened, "What? No, I mean, _what_?"

"You have to be joking," Hank said.

"We don't have anyone else," Alex snapped. "Everyone else has something they're supposed to be doing while the safe is being emptied."

"But he's a pickpocket not—" Hank started and cut himself off with a growl.

"He also didn't manage to get himself red flagged in the casino we're knocking over," Alex said, brown eyes narrowing.

"You say that like it's my fault," Hank scowled not looking at Alex anymore.

"I didn't say that," Alex said, biting back the first thing he could have said. "But it's a damn good reason for you to not be the person going into the vault."

"He's barely a decent pickpocket! This is so far beyond anything he's ever done before."

"Hey," Sean protested, a sound which Alex ignored.

Alex scowled at Hank, "Well then what do you suggest, oh peerless leader? Because the way I see it, he needs to be first a damn good pickpocket—you auditioned him yourself, and second had better damn well be able to do this. Because _we don't have anyone else_."

Hank scowled back, looming slightly. "Because we just don't have enough problems."

"Hey, sunshine," Emma said arms still crossed over her chest. "You have another plan or do you just want to glower and be angry for the hell of it?"

Alex ignored the way Hank was looming, having spent far too many years with the other man. He looked toward Sean, "Can you do it?"

"I, yeah I think so," the redhead managed.

Alex nodded once and rose to his feet, pulling Hank with him through the glass doors onto the small balcony of the suite, calling over his shoulder, "Let the others know about the change of plans."

"You're just going to trust him?" Hank asked. "You're just going by his word that he thinks he can do it?" He protested all the way out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, Alex shook his head, "Of course I'm not going to fucking trust that he can do this all on his own. He's too young to know what he can and can't do. But he needs to think I think he can."

"I know, dear," Hank said, still looking annoyed. "And I have to be the asshole who pushes him. I'm still pretty pissed about being flagged though. That wasn't _actually_ part of the plan."

"No, no it wasn't, but it makes the next part a little easier, if Shaw's as predictable as we think he is," Alex said.

"That's true," Hank said, turning around to hide his smile in case anyone looked out after them.

Alex put a hand on Hank's arm, hiding his own grin, "And, hell, Shaw himself'll give you a nice solid alibi."

"True. But I'll probably get majorly busted for violating my parole," Hank said. "He's petty enough for that."

"What's that going to cost you?" Alex asked, "Three months? Six?"

"Something like that," Hank said, crossing his arms and not having to fake his annoyed look. "I suppose I expected it."

"Things were going too smoothly," Alex agreed. He looked up at Hank, "I'll be there to pick you up this time."

"You should have been last time," Hank said, not looking at him.

"I know," Alex said, freely admitting his mistake. "I should have written too."

"It's harder for me to track you down and hit you on the head when I can't," Hank said. "But honestly. No matter what happens tonight, if I go back you will come?"

Alex nodded, "I promise."

Hank stared at him for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

Alex glanced at his watch and paused for a brief moment before he stretched up and kissed Hank. Whether they were supposed to be fighting or not, if this went south they weren't likely to actually see each other again before Hank got hauled off.

Leaning down, Hank cupped his hands around the back of Alex's head. "Good luck. Don't fuck up."

"You know me," Alex murmured. "I fuck up my personal life, not jobs. Break a leg."

"While we're at it, don't fuck up your personal life either," Hank said, turning slightly to watch him go.

Alex glanced over his shoulder at Hank, offering him a crooked grin, "It's finally where I want it. I'd have to be pretty stupid to fuck it up now."

"That is exactly what I want to hear," Hank said though his eyes were shadowed.

Alex paused and turned to face him fully again, "You sure? Cause your expression doesn't seem all that good with that."

Hank rubbed a hand over his face. "This isn't—This isn't the time."

Alex frowned, taking a step closer, "Hank?"

Peering at him over his hands, Hank sighed before letting them drop. "Come on, Alex. We're about to do something stupid and it's not like we have a good history or role models here on how to keep our personal lives together. I'm worried about everything right now."

"Which makes you a good leader, usually. But trust me on this like you would a job. Please? I can't, I can't go into this expecting us to fuck it up, alright," Alex said, meeting Hank's eyes steadily.

"I'm not," Hank said, defensively. "But there's—last time I went to prison the world I walked back into was different excuse me for being, stupidly worried."

"This isn't the same. Not this time," Alex said. "But I guess I can't prove that to you until we get through it."

"Exactly," Hank said with a wry smile. "That's the problem of being such a good planner—I'm always worried and thinking about the possibilities of what could happen. It's better to plan for the worst case scenario and be surprised."

"You are the craziest pessimist I think I've ever met," Alex said with a fond grin and a shake of his head. "Alright. I'm gonna go make sure Charles is set for his part."

"Yes," Hank agreed but couldn't resist pulling him back for what was supposed to be a quick kiss. Alex pressed into the kiss, his fingers twining in Hank's hair as he deepened it almost immediately. "So here's to not fucking up?" Hank grinned against his mouth before drawing back.

"Here's to not fucking up," Alex agreed with a smile as he took a step back. "Now, I really do need to make sure Charles is on schedule, or you do. Because he needs to be in place in less than a quarter of an hour."

"You," Hank said quickly. "Break a leg." Alex nodded, touching a finger to his brow in a brief salute as he finally slipped back into the main part of the suite and went to let Charles know that it was time to head downstairs.


	7. Don't Actually Break Anything

Charles stood just outside the front doors of the Bellagio with Shaw, having spoken to the casino owner a few days prior about a package of precious gems that would be arriving for him and managing to finagle a place for them in the vault itself. He looked every inch the wealthy European gentleman in the Armani suit cut narrow and fitting his slim form like a glove. Mentally keeping tally of the time and knowing how long he would need to stall Shaw to throw off the other man's evening, he watched as the car they were waiting for pulled in.

"Ah, here they are now," Shaw said, purposefully not checking his watch or looking alarmed at how long he had been standing there with this eccentric gentleman.

Charles nodded once, his expression never changing as the car pulled up and the passenger door opened. His voice when he spoke was tinged with an accent that wasn't easily placed, but had a hint of Eastern Europe to it, "Indeed. Right on time."

"Are they," Shaw said under his breath as Logan gracefully stepped out of the car, his movements belying his bulk and short stature, hair slicked back and in an immaculately pressed suit.

The driver's door opened as Scott, dressed in a suit to match Logan's circled the car to unlock the cuff that held the briefcase with the jewels in it from Logan's wrist and snapped it onto Charles', handing Charles the key before returning to his post with the van.

"Shall we?" Shaw asked, smooth and graceful, Logan eying him in what he hoped was an appropriate manner.

Charles nodded once, "Yes, I fear I am keeping you from your evening."

"Do not concern yourself with that," Shaw said with a fake smile. "The important thing is that your assets are well protected and you have an enjoyable time at my casino."

Charles let his lips tip upward very slightly at the corners as they crossed the foyer and started toward the casino cages. He saw Angel dealing at the blackjack tables, and was fairly certain he caught sight of Hank near the slots as they passed. One in position and he wasn't certain he wanted to know what Hank thought he was doing.

Shaw seemed to notice just about the same time that Charles did that someone who didn't belong was there. He leaned down to one of his own security personnel. "Tell one of your fellows to find Mr. Walsh that a Mr. McCoy in the west slots, where he does not belong."

Charles' eyes flickered in Shaw's direction, "Trouble, Mr. Shaw?"

"Not at all," he said smoothly as they crossed the floor, Logan following close by.

They were nearly to the security cages when a call came from their left, "Charlie? Charlie Xavier, is that you?"

Charles strove to ignore the man, but he wouldn't be put off, coming closer. Shaw did not stop moving but his eyes slid from Charles to the man calling for him, considering how reputable the other man was.

The patron spoke again, "You old son of a gun. You remember me, don't you? Stan. Stan Thomas. From Belmont."

Charles drew a deep breath, his expression turning dangerous and icy as he finally looked at the man with utter contempt. Refusing to actually address him he barely glanced at Logan, "Jakob. Deal with this."

"Sir," Logan said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder and turning him away. "If you'll just go back to your business like a good chap and leave these men alone...”

"But that's—" the man started to protest as Logan escorted him away and Charles turned back to Shaw.

He lifted the wrist the case was attached to pointedly, "If we could? I hate the feel of metal against my skin."

"Please, after you," Shaw said, gesturing him forward again. Charles inclined his head ever so slightly, hating to have Shaw even remotely at his back but not showing even a flicker of that as they reached the security cages and were let inside.

Shaw left Charles with his head of security after the case was checked for anything invasive that might cause trouble for the vault or security after which Charles was escorted to the main security room to watch the transport of the case.

o-o-o

Several floors up, in Charles' suite, Kurt was dubiously eying the cash cart replica that Logan and Scott had wheeled up, "And you all are certain everyone can be in place in thirty minutes?"

Alex nodded, finishing off the small bag of dried fruit he was eating, "That's the plan."

"I have thirty minutes of air, I hope your plan works because otherwise they are going to have a nasty surprise when they fetch this cart eventually," Kurt muttered, levering himself up onto the cart.

"You'll be fine, short stuff," Logan said cheerfully. "We're all professionals."

Kurt offered him a wry smile, "I am fairly certain I am taller than you."

"You can take measurements later," Alex said. "After we've pulled this off."

Kurt glanced toward him and nodded once, contorting himself into the small space allowed in the cash cart and Alex handed him his miniature air tank.

"Break a leg is what you say in show business, right?" Logan called.

"Yeah, that's the right phrase," Scott said from where he was leaning against the wall, watching it all take place.

"Don't actually break anything," Alex said. "You comfortable in there, Kurt?" Kurt offered a grin and a salute at that and Alex nodded again, "Good. Thirty minutes starts," he closed the lid firmly, "Now."

"Let's get this part of the show on the road then," Logan said cheerfully.

"Let's just hope Sean and Angel are on schedule," Alex murmured, watching as Logan and Scott pushed the cart—draped with a tablecloth with a single tray on it to masquerade as room service—out of the suite.

o-o-o

As Shaw emerged from the cages, Sean fell into step alongside him, "Mr. Shaw, Victor Jacobs with the Nevada Gaming Commission. Can I get a minute of your time?"

Shaw's eyes twitched over to him. "This is a very busy night for me. What is the problem?"

"I'll come straight to the point then. We have reason to believe one of the dealers on your floor is blacklisted."

Shaw stopped, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "Which one?" he demanded, dropping his hand.

"Carmen Fernandez, blacklisted under the name Angel Salvadore," Sean answered, nodding toward the blackjack tables.

"A new hire," Shaw said. "Figures." Striding over, he let Sean follow or not as he wished.

Sean kept pace with Shaw, staying just in his peripheral vision. Angel looked up from the game she was dealing and paused for the briefest of moments.

"Ms. Fernandez, or is that Salvadore?" Shaw greeted.

She turned fully to face him, "Mr. Shaw. Says Fernandez on my paperwork."

"He claims it's otherwise," Shaw said, pointing to Sean.

She looked in Sean's direction and narrowed her eyes at him, "And who're you telling lies and ruining a girl's job?"

Sean stepped forward, "Nevada Gaming Commission."

Angel fell still at that before looking at Shaw, "You're going to do this on the floor, sir?"

"I'd rather not be doing this at all," Shaw said. "If you'll step this way, ma'am?"

Angel's lips thinned, but she nodded and stepped away from her table, another dealer stepping into her place to continue the game.

They entered the cages and a meeting room down one of the hallways, Angel sitting at the table and glaring at Sean as he laid out the information that Emma had gleaned from the NGC's database about why she'd been blacklisted along with one of her other aliases which she'd known she would have to burn. Sean was skittish as he spoke, staying just out of her reach and she cut him off finally, "Got any information on the pretty little blond girl out on the floor? Of course not."

Sean broke off in the middle of his sentence and blinked at her, "What? This has nothing to do with race."

"Sure it doesn't. You don't hear about this happening to the white dealers though do you? Just those of us who can't pass."

"The NGC has always been very conscientious and encouraged the hiring of people of all creeds and colors and nations of origin."

Angel was on her feet and three steps toward him before he finished speaking, "Say what you're dancing around. I've got the paperwork to prove I'm legal to work here you white bastard."

Sean backed quickly away from her, nearly tripping over Shaw as he dodged past him. He barely brushed against Shaw as he snatched the access codes they needed and security caught Angel by the arm.

"Miss I expect you to control yourself while you're here," Shaw said.

"For all the time it takes for me to clear my locker and catch a bus, right?" Angel asked, her glare darting to Shaw.

"Certainly," he replied calmly.

She shrugged off security, drawing a deep breath before offering him a thin smile, "Thank you for the job, it's been a real pleasure right up ‘til now."

"I'm certain it has," he said, still keeping his voice mild.

She was escorted out with security, Sean following Shaw out toward the main entrance to the cages. He paused part way there, feeling in his pockets and knowing exactly how late Shaw was for his evening plans, "Oh damn, I left my PDA back there."

Shaw turned a scowl on him. "Can you fetch it yourself?" he asked.

Sean hesitated and then nodded, "Yeah, I remember the way back. Thank you for your time, sir."

"You're most welcome," Shaw said through gritted teeth. Sean turned back down the way they'd come, listening carefully for the sound of the door to the casino floor before changing his path toward the elevator to the vault.

o-o-o

At the same time as Sean and Shaw were approaching Angel, Raven entered the main floor restaurant and started for Shaw's nightly table, surprised that he wasn't already there. She glanced at the expensive watch she wore, frowning slightly. She had come down late and if he took too much longer they wouldn't have time to eat before the fight that evening. Hearing motion directly behind her she turned, coming face to face with Hank. She blinked twice, "I had heard you were red flagged."

"Was I?" Hank asked. "Perhaps I did not notice."

She huffed a breath that might have been a laugh, catching sight of two of Shaw's security detail near the door, "Somehow I don't believe that's true."

"No?" Hank sighed. "Well maybe I just wanted to say goodbye or something considered how hosed I am."

"Puts a crimp in your honeymoon with Alex," she said, not commenting on what it could do to his plans for the heist she was sure he was planning that night.

"Ah, well," Hank shrugged. "This is a horrible place for a honeymoon anyway."

"Not romantic enough?" Raven asked, lips tipping up almost imperceptibly.

"Far too crass and commercial," Hank said. "For romance you want something sleek, something beautiful and elegant."

"And where would you find to fit that description that both you and Alex would like?"

"You'd be surprised," Hank said. "But Europe probably."

"Expensive trip for an ex-con," Raven murmured, her glance darting toward Shaw's security again.

"Oh don't, Raven, you know who raised us," Hank said. "Getting a hand out from Erik isn't hard if you grovel a bit. Especially if him and Charles are fighting."

"Are they fighting?" Raven asked. “You said they were talking again.”

"You know them," Hank said. "When I visited Charles he was living in a tomb."

"Yes, you mentioned that the last time you showed up in the restaurant," Raven said. "Did you actually come in here to say good bye or are you just hoping the longer you stand here talking the longer security takes making up its mind whether to disturb the guests and kick you out?"

"I thought we were bantering," Hank said. "Isn't that how we usually communicate, even when saying goodbye?" He leaned forward suddenly, pulling her into a loose embrace.

Raven startled, her eyes widening before she reached up to return his hug, "It is. Take care of yourself Hank. And of Alex too, we both know he needs it."

"He's like a lost duckling," Hank said, half laughing into her shoulder before leaning back.

Grinning in response, she nodded, "He can be. Good luck, Hank."

"And to you," Hank said, turning on his heel to go and right into a pair of security guards. "Ah." Raven hesitated, but sat down at her table, knowing better than to interfere as the guards said something about Mr. Shaw wanting to talk to Hank and escorted him away.

"You know, this is really unnecessary," Hank said as he walked between them.

"What Mr. Shaw wants is what he gets," one of them said, sliding his passcard to get them into the cages.

o-o-o

Charles watched on the security monitors as his case carrying what appeared to be priceless jewels was carried down to the vault and set directly on top of the cart containing Kurt. His breathing accelerated and sweat beaded his brow. One of the security team turned to look at him as his hands tightened on the railing of the slightly raised platform he stood on, “Sir? Are you alright?”

He waved off the concerned question, “Fine. I am…I am fine.” His knees gave out and he collapsed, a perfectly timed distraction as Sean appeared unaccompanied on one of the monitors.

The frantic flurry to call for aid gave Emma enough time to route the cameras to their loop of empty halls. 911 was called even as a doctor was sought out. Alex entered moments later, posing as a doctor who was visiting a patient in one of the guest rooms. He checked Charles' pulse and simulated CPR for a handful of minutes.

Sitting back and blocking views of Charles’ chest for the most part, Alex ran a hand across his brow and shook his head, “He’s gone.” Scott and Logan arrived, dressed as paramedics, entered at that moment and came to a complete stop at that. Between the three of them they loaded Charles onto the stretcher, all of them leaving the security center and the alarmed personnel therein.

o-o-o

There was a sharp knock on the door to the room where Hank was waiting with the two security guards. The two men stepped out as a tall, muscular blond entered. The door closed behind him and before Hank could say anything he slugged him in the jaw.

Righting himself from where he had grabbed the bench, Hank whipped his head back up. "Damnit! Not until later!" he said.

"Sorry, Hank," Calvin said, not looking very repentant. "The split lip'll look more convincing if it's scabbing later though."

"Oh great, yes, thank you for that forethought," Hank said. "Give me like a hand signal or something to brace myself, Jesus." Wiping his lip he considered it before shrugging. "Oh well. Good job. How's the girlfriend or wife or whatever significant other you have?"

"Clarice is doing great. Misses the hell out of you guys, but we're doing good," Calvin said, pushing the table in the room over to a better corner.

"God, I love morally bankrupt mobsters," Hank said, climbing up on the table. "It's so great when they have rooms without cameras just to beat people up in."

Calvin laughed, "Makes it easier for sure. Tell Alex hey from us when you see him again, yeah?"

"Oh I will," Hank said. "Should be in a few hours or a few months. We'll see how the night goes."

"Good luck," Calvin said, giving Hank a boost into the ceiling before starting in on making sure the goons outside thought he was actually beating Hank bloody.

o-o-o

Sean entered the elevator, letting the door close behind him and hefting himself up to loosen the ceiling plate. Dropping back down he picked up the briefcase he was carrying and looked up to push it through the hole, falling back against the wall with a yelp and a curse as he came face to face with Hank.

"Thank you," Hank said, taking the case through the hole in the elevator. "Was wondering when you would show up."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sean asked, grabbing the edges of the hole and climbing through.

"You didn't honestly think I was going to sit this one out, did you?" Hank asked, arching his brows at him.

"But you and—" he broke off, "you guys set that up didn't you? Didn't trust me to do it?"

"Well," Hank shrugged, which was impressive considering he was lying on top of an elevator in a cramped space. "We will now. It's less a lack of trust and more an obsessive compulsive need to have my fingers in all the pies."

"I'm beginning to recognize that," Sean said, stripping out of his suitcoat, tie and dress shirt to reveal the black t-shirt underneath. The suit pieces went into the briefcase to replace the two rappelling lines, "next time I need to remember to count these and ask why," and detonator that had been in there.

"That might be wise," Hank said giving him a grin.

Sean offered him a slightly exasperated look as he slipped an earpiece in and carefully lowered himself over the edge of the elevator until he could hook one end of the rappelling line to the bottom.

Hank went over the other side, hooking up his own apparatus. "Frost, we're set," he said into his own earpiece, looking down at the red beams of light crisscrossing the elevator shaft.

On the other side of the line, Emma nodded. "Darwin, we're ready," she said, having also gotten a check-in from Alex moments before.

"I'm working on it," he said, eying the pinch.

"Work faster before Wagner suffocates," she said.

"I will if you stop bothering me," he snapped into his earpiece, stepping away from the pinch in the van. Frowning at it, he shifted from foot to foot, before muttering "Fuck it," under his breath and setting it off.

Las Vegas went totally dark.

Sean snapped a handful of glow sticks, dropping them down the shaft before he and Hank let their rappelling lines out, coming to an abrupt halt about five feet above the bottom of the shaft.

The jolt from the cords ending abruptly jarred both of them, Hank’s “Are you shitting me?” summing it up for Sean too. Pulling out a pair of knives they cut the lines and fell the remaining feet just as the power came back on. 

Back in the casino chaos was reigning, as the pit where the fight was happening had no windows and had gone totally black during the black out. 

Sitting directly behind Shaw, Erik gave him the most innocent look he could. "This is madness," he said as Shaw whipped around to focus on the floor in front of him. Leaning back in his seat, Erik managed not to grin. Raven glanced toward Erik and then toward the nearest exit, staying at Shaw's side.

o-o-o

In their base of operations, Angel leaned against the back of Emma's chair, "Lots of chaos." Her attention was focused on the screen showing the interior of the vault where Kurt was trying to get out of the cash cart without letting the case set on the top fall into the motion sensors near the floor.

"It's mess," she agreed. "Glorious and messy all at once."

On screen, Kurt caught the case by the handcuffs still attached to it just before it fell into the motion sensors. Angel glanced toward where Hank and Sean had used a knockout gas on the two armed guards in the hallway, "So far, actually you know what I'm not going to finish that sentence."

"Please don't," Emma said, watching the screen intently as Darwin and Charles entered the room.

"How are we doing?" Charles asked, carefully draping his tailored suitcoat over the back of a chair.

"Kurt managed not to dump your case on the floor, but he's got to make the jump still," Angel said.

"I would like no comments about how good or bad our luck is," Emma added. "None at _all_."

Charles arched his eyebrows at that, "I'd never dream of it." "Good because I would stab you with my stiletto heel," she said, watching Kurt make it to the door of the vault at the same time Hank and Sean reached the other side, knocking on the doorway.

Kurt carefully placed the first of the explosive gems, knocking on the door next to it to indicate it was in place before moving to the other side and repeating the action. When he went to make the jump back, though, the tight, careful wrapping around his sprained hand got stuck on a bolt on the door.

"Hank," Emma said urgently into the microphone. "Do not blow the door I repeat—"

Not hearing her in time, Hank hit the button. He frowned as nothing happened and Emma let out a carefully long breath.

Sean looked at Hank, "Did you check the battery?"

Kurt leaned his head against the door for a split second, breathing a soft sigh as he yanked his hand away from the door, cursing at the pain that shot up his arm.

"Ah, I knew I was forgetting something in the scramble," Hank said, pulling the batteries out of a pocket in his bag and sliding them into the controller. "Frost, we good?"

"You are now," she said tartly on the other end of the line, Darwin muffling a laugh.

"Then let's get this done," Sean said with a grin.

Blowing the door, Hank stumbled back at the force of the explosion. "Well, that was exciting," he said, stepping into the wrecked vault.

"That is what you call it?" Kurt snapped as he pushed one of the carts off of himself.

"Sure," Hank said, already pulling the bag forward and getting to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you liked the first part of the con, we should have the last chapter up sometime soon. Calvin is a nod to Calvin Rankin (mimic) from the Exiles comics and Clarice is Blink from the same.


	8. Your Plans Are Always the Best

Upstairs, Shaw and Raven exited the arena where the fight had been held, a cellphone starting to ring as they left. "Who is that?" Shaw asked, looking over at her.

"I thought I left my phone in the suite," Raven said, but reached into her pocket and pulled out a ringing phone. She frowned, "this isn't mine. Hello?"

Alex's voice came on the line, "Can I speak to Mr. Shaw, please?"

Raven blinked once and held the phone out to Shaw, "It's for you."

Shaw stopped walking to stare at her before accepting the phone. "Hello?" he said.

"Hello, Mr. Shaw. Fight to your liking?" Alex drawled.

"It was interrupted," Shaw said. "Who the fuck is this?"

"The man who's robbing you of course." Shaw came to a complete stop on the floor.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh I'm very sure you heard me, Mr. Shaw," Alex said easily. "As we speak I'm relieving you of all of that wonderful money downstairs."

"Like hell you are," Shaw said, but he was already heading to his security area.

"Just because it's never been done before doesn't mean it's not happening," Alex said, watching from across the casino floor as Raven followed Shaw into the cages.

"You better hope it's not happening now," Shaw hissed. "Or you'll be dead. You do remember what happened to everyone else who tried to rob Vegas?"

"Top three ended up dead or breathing through tubes for months," Alex said, sounding unconcerned.

"So you do know your history," Shaw said, storming into the cages. "It just means you're stupid." He turned to his head of security. "What the hell is going on in the vault down there?"

"Nothing, sir," his security head replied, motioning to the monitors that showed all well in the vault with the guards standing outside of it.

Shaw squinted at it a moment before nodding. "Well. I'm sorry to say that whoever the fuck you are, you're horribly misinformed."

"Got your eyes on the monitor? Great. Keep watching," Alex said, knowing Emma was looped in on the conversation.

In the hotel room, Emma grinned, flipping the cameras to the footage they wanted Shaw to see. "And here you go, you son of a bitch," she said under her breath.

In the cages Shaw almost dropped the phone as the images on the monitor changed to three masked men loading money into bags in his vault. "Jesus fucking—" he started to swear before cupping the bottom of the phone and turning a narrow eyed look at his second. "Find out how much money is in that vault," he hissed.

The man nodded, stepping away to do so as everyone in the room started moving at once, trying to backtrack the hack in their systems and trying to coordinate ways to get down to the vault.

Alex narrowly kept from grinning as he strolled past the roulette tables, "Welcome to Vegas. Your luck can change just that quick."

"Fuck you," Shaw hissed before composing himself, shifting his shoulders back and breathing deeply. "Alright. I should congratulate you on signing your own death warrant then shall I?"

Raven considered the room as a whole for a moment before slipping out quietly while Shaw was thoroughly distracted.

"Maybe," Alex said. "Not sure it's quite ready for that ink yet though."

"I'll sign it in your blood then, how about that?" Shaw hissed, anger leaking back into his voice. "Exactly how do you expect to walk out of here? I'll hardly let you out the front door."

"Of course you won't. That's why you're carrying it out for us," Alex said as Raven reached the floor.

"Excuse me?" Shaw asked.

"You heard me. Take a closer look at those monitors," Alex directed. "Your manager or whoever you have checking is probably reporting to you that you have a little over one hundred and sixty million in your vault tonight. Gotta love fight night. If you look carefully you'll see we're only packing up about half of that. The other half? it's staying behind. Booby trapped. So here's how it's going to work, Mr. Shaw. You're going to let our eighty million go and you keep yours. You try and stop us we blow both batches."

Shaw narrowed his eyes. "You're holding my money hostage so you can steal it. Brilliant. Except congratulations you just made me even angrier."

Alex turned, coming face to face with Raven who offered him an unimpressed look as he continued to speak into the phone, "You can lose eighty million dollars secretly tonight or you can lose a hundred sixty million publically, it's all your choice." He pulled the phone away from his ear, covering the speaker, "Hello, Raven."

"Alex. Where's Hank?"

"He's fine."

"Of course he is. Does he remember our _deal_?"

"Yep. Think the loss of one hundred and sixty million will be enough of a distraction for you to be able to leave?" Alex offered her a sharp grin.

"You're a bastard, Summers. I get to figure out my own excuse from this evening don't I? _After_ he planted that phone on me and used me in his con."

Alex nodded, "Neither he nor I are actually _that_ forgiving. Catch you later." He turned his back on her and strolled off, lifting the phone up to his ear as he did so.

On the other end of the line Shaw uncapped the phone after hissing as his head of security to call 911 and get a SWAT team in. "Alright," he said, voice level. "You have a deal."

"Good. Here's how this is going to work. Five minutes from right now, the men in the vault will deposit six bags in the elevator. If they meet anyone, we'll blow the money in the bags and the money in the vault. One minute after that the elevator will rise to your cages. Six of your guards will pick up the bags and carry them out into the casino. If they take more than twenty seconds to reach the floor or if there's any indication of a switch we'll blow the money in the vault and in the bags." He stepped past a row of slot machines as one of the players pulled the lever, the machine ringing.

"You're on the floor," Shaw said, realization striking him and turning to security. "He's on the floor."

"Of course I'm on your floor. I was staying in your hotel. Great mini-bar by the way."

"Fuck you," Shaw said again.

Alex grinned, strolling unconcernedly toward the entrance to the floor, continuing to dictate how the evening was going to go as he briefly checked his watch. On schedule so far, as long as the van was running smoothly.

The guards went past right on schedule, depositing their bags in the white unmarked van that has pulled up the curb. A camera watched them all the while, Emma grinning on the other side of it. Once loaded the van pulled away, its driver unseen as five unmarked sedans followed.

As soon as the van disappeared a SWAT van pulled up.

Alex stepped smoothly around the back of the SWAT van, taking less than fifteen seconds to don the uniform he would be wearing for the rest of the night and pulling the helmet on, his phone discarded in the front lobby of the Bellagio. He offered a grin to Charles as the older man lowered the mask of his own helmet.

In the cages, Shaw was gloating at the arrival of the SWAT team. "Get me my vault back. What's the status of the van?"

His security manager answered him, "Our guys say the van is headed toward McCarren Airport."

He nodded. "Get it."

The manager turned his attention to that as they were piped into the SWAT coms, the SWAT leader's voice coming in clear, "Night goggles on. Prepare to cut power."

"Cut power when ready," Shaw said finally took a look around the room. "Where is that man that was in here?" he asked, finally realizing who was missing.

"The European?" His security manager shifted uncomfortably, "He....he died, sir."

Shaw gave him one long slow blink. "Excuse me?"

"Heart attack it looked like."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Shaw asked just as yelling came from the dark monitors.

"Someone's here!" a voice said, much like Sean's and there was a moment of confusion before an explosion could be heard. Shaw tensed visibly.

Down below, Alex lifted the face mask on his helmet as he pulled himself into the hall in front of the vault, strolling forward as much as one could stroll in full SWAT gear.

Hank greeted him with a wave, sitting on one of the carts, the money stacked in neat piles by the doors already. Sean and Kurt were close behind him.

The rest of the crew started bagging the money as Alex walked over, resting his hands either side of Hank's hips and leaning in to kiss him, "Raven's pissed at me."

"I don't want to know," Hank said, quickly kissing him again with his arms around his neck. "Nice uniform. I'm not sure SWAT makes good fantasy play but I'm definitely liking the idea of getting you into a uniform."

Alex grinned, "You figure out the uniform and we'll talk about it. This though is off the table, uncomfortable as hell."

"Too bulky," Hank said, almost a whine. "Can't reach you. Now, a cop or something, that's hot." He tilted in for another kiss, his glasses pressed too hard against his nose for it to be really comfortable. "We're almost through just don't get cocky."

Alex reached up to adjust Hank's glasses, "Yeah, and Shaw's pissed as hell right now. Stay safe, Hank."

"Calvin does his job very well," Hank said, a bit primly.

Alex offered him a look and touched his split lip, "Yeah, I'm seeing that. It's not him I'm worried about."

"Yo, lovebirds," Emma called. "We're on a clock? Remember the clock?"

"Yeah, yeah, the clock," Alex said, kissing Hank briefly again before backing off and picking up a couple of bags.

"Have fun leaving the castle," Hank called after them.

Alex shot Hank another grin over his shoulder before he snapped the mask back down.

o-o-o

On his way down to survey the exploded remains of his vault, Shaw lifted his phone to his ear. "Where are we with the van?" he demanded, passing the now useless SWAT team on their way out.

"They're preparing to take the van now," his manager answered. "The tires are shot out, but no one's gotten out of the van yet."

Across town, Scott and Erik watched the scene unfolding from the front seat of Erik's Rolls Royce, Scott holding one of his radio controllers.

"They are so stupid, it's fucking disheartening," Erik decided, watching the goon approaching the driver's door warily.

Scott nodded, his lips tipped upward slightly on the left as the goon opened the door only to come face to lens with a video camera that was mounted at eyelevel. For the sheer pleasure of watching the goons respond, Scott sent the van lurching forward a handful of inches.

Erik rolled his eyes. "Just blow the thing already."

"Bored with watching their confusion already?" Scott asked before flipping the cover off of the necessary button on the remote and detonating the van.

"I'd rather be imagining Shaw's screams to be honest," Erik said.

Scott smirked at that, "Yeah. If it's on schedule the others should be heading to the meet-up by now."

"So he should be noticing that both of the blow outs were just flyers for strippers," Erik said, a slow smirk spreading over his face at the goons surrounding the van realized exactly that.

That got a laugh from Scott as they pulled away, "Exactly how mad is he going to be, do you think?"

"He might faint," Erik said. "I hope Emma is still patched into the cameras and recording it.”

"I doubt she'd want to miss it either."

"Exactly. It's so good to know you can count on people."

o-o-o

Shaw stormed up to the doorway of the room he had left Hank McCoy in earlier that night. He paused outside, hearing the sounds of someone being beaten before slamming it open.

He found his hired goon standing over Hank McCoy, whose glasses were askew and suit ruffled. "You left me here quite a while," Hank said. "Busy night?"

"What do you know about it?" Shaw said, striding in and circling, Hank straightened, shifting like he was uncomfortable and sore.

Adjusting his glasses he followed Shaw with his eyes. "Know about what? Your night?"

"Yes," Shaw said. "What do you know about it?"

"You sound like something went wrong," Hank said and Shaw punched him across the face. Staggering, Hank barely caught himself. "Jesus! Did something go wrong?"

Calvin shifted his weight, but didn't move more than that, knowing better than to blow everything by supporting Hank or taking a swing at Shaw.

Shaw stepped forward again and Hank sat down on the bench, allowing Shaw to tower over him and feel more powerful. "Did you have a hand in what happened tonight?"

"I've been in here all night," Hank said. "Ask your guards, ask him," he flung a hand out to Calvin. "We took a break from the beating because you were taking so long but I haven't left."

"If I find out you're lying I will personally rip your guts out," Shaw hissed.

Hank blinked at him, calm in the face of his threats. He had, after all, grown up with Erik. "Sure," he said. "But honest I just came tonight to say goodbye to Raven."

"What?" Shaw frowned.

"Well, we have history," Hank shrugged. "Seemed mean to leave without saying goodbye. Again."

Shaw narrowed his eyes, as if trying to figure out who would see personal relationships as enough to make that risk. "And you swear you had nothing to do with tonight."

Hank stared at him. "Yeah," he said. "I swear it. Want a pinky swear?" He barely winced when he was slapped. At least it wasn't a hard enough punch to send him tumbling down again.

"Get him out of here," Shaw said.

Calvin nodded once to Shaw, stepping forward to haul Hank to his feet.

“You know,” Shaw said before he got very far. “It's pretty pathetic. I remember you reputation you know, from the days when you had one.”

“And why is that pathetic?” Hank asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Because now all you can do in a Vegas casino is say good bye to your ex. It's sad. But I suppose the mighty must always fall.”

Hank blinked at him, trying not to grin. “Perhaps that's true,” he said.

Shaw's smile was sharp and victorious. “But women like Raven? They always know who's best for them and it isn't people like you.”

Still trying not to give in to hysterical laughter, Hank only smiled at him. “Are you so sure it's guys like you they do want?” he asked. “You might want to double check that.” As Shaw's expression slowly turned to a scowl, Hank turned away, letting Calvin shove him forward.

"Follow him," Hank heard him order. " _Everywhere_."

"Is he going to follow me to prison because that sounds boring," Hank commented under his breath but loud enough for Calvin to hear.

Calvin's lips twitched ever so slightly, but he cleared his expression quickly, speaking just loudly enough for Hank, "You sure he's had your parole called in?"

"I can almost promise it," Hank said. "He's petty enough."

"Damn," Calvin said as they reached the casino floor.

"And there's the cops," Hank said. "Yeah, my parole got called in."

"Give us a call when you get out," Calvin said in an undertone before stepping back and letting the cops cuff Hank.

Hank flicked him a wink over his shoulder. "You could be gentle," he whined at the cop cuffing him, earning him a disbelieving look.

o-o-o

Charles handed Alex a set of keys as they approached the fountain in front of the Bellagio. Alex took them rather than let them drop but blinked at him, "What are these?"

"Keys to the old mansion and the buildings on the grounds. It'll put you closer to the prison," Charles answered.

"I'm not visiting while he's there, too many questions," Alex said.

Charles offered him barely a glance, "Just keep the keys, Alexander."

Coming up behind him, Darwin slung an arm over Alex's shoulder. They had stashed the SWAT van and split up their shares of the money already. "Congratulations," he said. "I want to have so many drinks right now."

Erik and Scott approached from the other direction, Erik's car parked down the street. "The show's about to start," he said, referring to the fountain.

Alex grinned at Darwin, the expression a little forced as his gaze darted toward the front of the Bellagio, "Yeah but if you have so many drinks, who's doing the driving?"

Charles stepped up beside Erik, "Congratulations, Erik. We actually managed it tonight."

"Those little motherfuckers we raised actually pulled it off," Erik said. "Imagine, them making history." He twined their hands together, watching the fountain light up and spray higher. "Heard you died tonight."

"I got better," Charles said, leaning his head against Erik's shoulder.

Erik snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Well," Emma said, arms crossed over her chest and standing with her legs apart. "You aren't all completely useless."

"If we were would you have even worked with us?" Scott asked, leaning against the railing by the fountain.

"There were some unknowns," Emma said, eyeing him and flickering a smirk at him before turning on her heel and leaving.

Logan shouldered Scott and gave him a significant look.

Scott offered Logan a scowl before looking pointedly from Logan to Kurt, "Speaking of unknowns. Where are you headed now?"

Kurt shrugged, "Back to the circus. The money will keep it going through the off season. Through a few off seasons perhaps."

Logan's look couldn't have said "fuck you" more clearly if he had tried. Still holding Charles' hand, Erik tried not to laugh. Scott ignored Logan, pushing away from the railing and walking off in the same general direction Emma had gone.

The others slowly started breaking up, Logan pointedly going in a completely different direction from his brother, leaving Erik, Charles, Alex and Sean. Sean straightened from where he was resting his elbows on the railing and stretched, "I've got a redeye back to New York. Thanks for the job, Alex." 

"You did good, kid. You ever need another job, or a referral, call me," Alex said, clapping him on the shoulder before Sean left. 

"So do you think you want that remaindered furniture this time?" Erik asked, eyes sliding over to Alex. 

"Apparently I have access to everything in Charles' mansion," Alex said, holding up the keys that were looped around the middle finger of his right hand. "But when Hank gets out we'll let you know." 

Erik smirked at him. "Go on a honeymoon somewhere nice or something." 

"I'm thinking Europe. But we'll see," Alex said. "Three to six months." 

"Gives you time to plan," Erik said, having moved from holding Charles' hand to slinging an arm over his shoulder and tucking him against his side. 

"You two might consider it yourselves," Alex said. 

"You're meddling again," Charles said, looking past Erik at him. 

Alex snorted, "You don't get to talk about meddling." 

"Honestly I'd say the Caribbean before Europe," Erik said casually. "Maybe a ski trip up in Canada." 

"Canada could be nice," Charles agreed. 

Alex turned to leave, "Just go on a damn honeymoon you two, it's only decades late." 

"Maybe you should take a ring to Hank!" Erik said after him. "You know, when you go to pick him up. Then you can bitch about decades late." 

"Fuck you, Erik," Alex called over his shoulder, not sounding angry at all. 

Erik smirked after him before looking back down at Charles. "It's a nice night," he decided. 

Charles tilted his head back slightly to look up at Erik, "It really is."

o-o-o

Hank was still wearing his tux when the gates opened to let him out of prison. For a moment he looked at the sky before focusing down on Alex standing and eating a sandwich. "You came," he said, as if it still actually surprised him just enough to comment on.

Alex crumpled up the wrapper for his sandwich, licking a dab of mayo from the corner of his mouth and nodded, "Promised I would."

"Yes, but you'll still have to excuse the long hours of worry and fretting," Hank said, coming abreast with him and just stopping.

Alex tilted his head back just enough to look up at Hank, "So, what now with your new freedom?"

"Several things come immediately to mind," Hank said and he swept down, kissing Alex with more force than usual, pressing him back against the metal gate slightly.

Alex parted his lips, his arms coming up to wrap around Hanks' shoulders, even as he shifted his own shoulders to try to move the pressure of the gate to a different point.

"Of course the ones that come most immediately to mind require a bit more privacy then a prison parking lot," Hank said, when he finally pulled back.

"Charles gave me keys to the mansion when we finished our job," Alex said. "I've been actually making a go of cleaning the place up a bit."

"Oh hell no," Hank said. "No no no, I'm not having sex in the old childhood beds. There is just no way, Alex."

Alex cracked up, "It's too long a drive anyhow. I was thinking somewhere closer."

"Thank god, that means I don't have to leave you right here and now," Hank groaned.

"Love you too, Hank. Come on, the car's a few rows out," Alex said, twining his hand with Hank's. "Erik told me I should bring a ring today. Thought I'd run that one by you ahead of time though."

"I thought the point of a proposal was one party was supposed to be surprised?" Hank asked. "Also, fuck Erik."

"I figured me showing up would be enough surprise for you today," Alex said as they reached the car. "That's not to say I didn't bring you anything though."

Hank gave him a wary look. "Oh?"

Alex leaned into the backseat and pulled out a small paper bag from a grocery store with a bow on it, handing it to Hank.

Hank looked inside and slowly looked back up. "You are the most adorable, fucked up man I have ever met, and I am appalled honestly appalled at how pleased I am with you right now. My tastes are truly horrendous."

"Yes they are," Alex agreed. "However, I can forgive you for liking Twinkies because those bad tastes apparently translate into your taste in men too."

Hank laughed. "And a whole pack of sharpies. I see one of them is gold."

"I thought you'd appreciate the gold one." "Oh, I do," Hank said, wrapping am arm around his waist and tugging him closer. "I'm horrified by how much." He pressed a quick kiss to Alex's mouth. "Now let's get to work on my tan while those gents in the silver car there tail us until we convince them we didn't steal their boss' money."

"How are we planning to convince them of that?" Alex asked, pulling back and getting into the car to lower the roof.

"I have no idea," Hank said, sliding into the passenger seat. "Do nothing for days but hole up in a hotel and have a lot of sex? That ought to convince them we have no wealth to spare."

"I'm good with that plan. Let's go with that plan," Alex said.

Hank looked over, his eyes flashing. "Good, because that's something I've been planning for quite a while now."

Alex offered him a sharp grin, his eyes dilating, "Your plans are always the best."

"Damn straight," Hank said as they peeled out of the parking lot. He laughed, one hand thrown up in the wind with the sun beating down on them as they zoomed down the road. It didn't even matter that the silver car was following them. "My plans always work out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! Thank you all for reading and we hope you enjoyed it as much as we have!
> 
> (We might do the sequels at some point. We'll see. No promises but we'd like to someday).


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